


Levy Freeheart

by Serade



Series: Levy Freeheart [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternative Universe - Medieval Fantasy, Angst, Betrayal, Coronation, F/F, F/M, Family Loss, First Times, Gore, Guilt, Hurt, Love Confessions, Loyalty, Magic, Menarche, Murder, Other, Permanent Injury, Sieges, Slavery, Wakes & Funerals, War, Weddings, bandits, blood oath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 34
Words: 93,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serade/pseuds/Serade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a land without king, chaos rules. Young Levy McGarden finds herself alone in the vast world when she is taken from her family home by Phantom Lord bandits. When the Freeheart Army gets to her, she doesn't need to think on it, joining their ranks. The Black Steel Knight has to pledge his loyalty to survive and finds the little girl far more fascinating than he would ever have imagined. In order to restore peace in Fiore, they ride under Fairy Tail's banner to crown a new king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Farmer's Lot

**Author's Note:**

> Something I've been thinking on writing for a while. I will aim to update at least once a week. Hope you enjoy! (=^_^=)

Earl McGarden was a well educated man. He was a farmers son and knew every seed and tree's season and care by heart, born with a green thumb. A farmers life was not what the slender young boy desired, through, insisting to go to school in the church of Aster from the age of thirteen.

His father was highly displeased with his only son, due to his odd ambitions leaving the elder with all the work a farm brought with it. No longer was he helping out, feeding the cows, cutting the crops or rolling hay bales.

Often would the bulky elder complain about the boy's laziness, sticking his nose into books instead of providing for his family with his own sweat and muscle as their family had for generations.

It was a word the elder loved.Generations. It rolled of his tongue with great pride when he uttered it, emphasising every single syllable and bringing the word to an end with the sharpest s he could manage in his smoky old voice.

Their little family had been gifted with but this one child, and that late in life. If the young man didn't grow up to earn their share as well, they would have nothing left once their arms grew too weak to lift the axe and their feet to tired to lead the oxen over the fields.

Earl's mother however encouraged his endeavour, making him lunch to take with in the mornings and handing the small bound packages to him while the father didn't look. She wished for their son to have an easier life. It was her stern eyes' battle with her husband's own that every time saved the boy from his fathers belt when he left for town to study another day.

Learning maths, reading and writing, he felt the whole vast world unfold before him, one piece at a time showing its secrets to him, every lesson and teaching allowing him another glimpse at the big picture.

He soon realised that the written word was far more than a means to communicate via letters; it could capture and preserve the knowledge of entire nations with simple paper bound into thick leather tomes.

The town's priest, Father Ryder, took him in as his own pupil when he noticed just how determined the young farmer's boy was. He personally educated the inquisitive teenager, showing him ways to think and count he wouldn't even have been able to imagine, teaching him the language of the scholars and history of their country.

Most were passionately disinterested in land lords, council members and kings, but this farmer's son learned just how much influence these people, living miles from their humble wooden homes, actually had on their lives. A king was the law itself, his royal army the ones enforcing it and protecting the common man from war and bandits when they could.

The by far best trait of being a scholar's pupil was access the library. The small chamber in the back of Father Ryder's house was a treasure trove of knowledge that only the scholars and their students were allowed to borrow from, one book at a time and for a month at most.

Earl was by far the youngest man allowed into this books and scrolls overflowing room, often sitting by the door with a piece of paper in hand and reading until it was too dark to make the black ink out against rough sheets of paper.

While he loved to learn about the finer arts of animal husbandry and agriculture, about anatomy, medicine, materials and house construction, there was one special item in the archive that he could look at every day without ever tiring. This was the large map over Fiore and the lands beyond, drawn out in detail all the way to the borders of the great Pergrande Kingdom where it faded into a vague outlining of the unknown.

He had taken the time to copy it down with ink and quill, skipping the colouring since he didn't trust his skill when it came to painting. This large black and white map now decorated their home, sitting on their kitchen wall, lined with nails.

To think the world could be that huge. No one had ever passed the borders to Pergrande and come back. Some said they were eaten by beasts or taken by daemons while others claimed the lands beyond the impassable polar deserts and high mountains of Iceberg and the barbaric tribes of Bellum where so rich and fertile that no sane man would ever consider returning from them.

It was a great honour to Earl when Father Ryder asked him to take over the schooling of the new students, showing simple addition and subtraction, reading and even elementary writing to anyone interested, many young boys coming to them from the neighbouring villages.

Never would his father admit he was proud, but the elders complaints quieted when his son was addressed as scholar himself and found a good wife, a strong farmer's daughter herself and beautiful as one could be, long blue hair framing a lovely round face.

An eternity seemed to have passed since these peaceful times. The last king, Toma E. Fiore, had passed away and the country of Fiore had been turned upside down. The months after the wise man's passing had been confusing, the entire country holding its breath as the council members discussed the heritage of the crown, the king having no direct heir.

Little princess Hisui E. Fiore had died at a very young age, falling off her horse and landing on her head. After days of worry and pain, she had slipped into her final slumber. The burial had been a large event, memorials held far outside the high walls of the capital, but it was not before this day that the common man truly missed the little green haired girl, the threat of chaos hanging over their heads like an axe raised over a goose's neck.

There were rumours about a new king, about the crowning of a man with no blood relation to the former ruler, a drastic measure. The council had no power to rule over the royal army and force a new man onto the throne to command them, the knights', squires' and guards' oath concerning the king and his heirs only.

Slowly, the troops left Mercurius and the councilmen fled, slipping into the roles of commoners in the fear of all those that they had crossed in the service to The Crown, taken land from, forced to move or ordered the execution of family members upon.

If a man that lost his son to the executioners blade, be it for crime as horrific as murder, ever found them, they would die, having no more knights in finely decorated shining armours to stand before them at the threat of a hostile blade.

The laws of Fiore faded as well, no army left to enforce them. A wave of looting and plundering washed through the once peaceful land, even the inhabitants of the capital Crocus fearing for their lives as the bandits grew numerous and strong, soon well equipped and indistinguishable from what once used to be safe guards.

It was each for their own, all of Fiore seemingly slipping back a hundred years in time.

Many trade routes suffered from constant bandit attacks and food rotted in one town while the next starved, no sane man risking his life for a few slices of bread as long as there were rats to cook.

The southern town of Aster was almost entirely cut off from the surrounding land when Phantom Lord grew strong, a once almost unknown group of bandits that now flourished, taking everything that they lay their eyes upon, occupying and slaughtering entire cities.

A lot of bandit groups had arisen and grown in the years of chaos, but no name had rung out quite as loudly as Phantom Lord, the lilac swirling pattern of the Phantom's Eye symbol causing terror in the heart of the common man when it was waved on black cloth flags.

Children were sent into the woods to hide, women sat with knives against their bust to take their own lives should they be found, and the bravest men picked up every axe and pitchfork they could find, knowing well that it was nothing but a delay, buying time for their families with their own blood.

Often the riders of Phantom Lord would divide the work of hunting the fleeing children and attacking the town, thus none escaping their clutches once they had locked on a target.

Entire towns could suddenly vanish when the lilac and black flag was spotted on the horizon, overnight turning into ghostly abandoned streets, the inhabitants never to return to surely burnt or overrun houses they once called home, that their fathers and grandfathers had built with their own two hands.

The people of Aster where a stubborn folk, though, staying put even as their neighbours were attacked. Aster still had its fair share of old Royal Army knights and former Freeheart bandits, settling in the peaceful flowering town when they first rode past here two years ago.

The southern lands had a magical attraction, bewitching anyone foolish enough to pay natures sweet song attention, capturing the hearts of those that wished for nothing more than to roll around in the rich fields and hunt the wind as it played through the leaves of the forest roof.

The Freeheart bandits were once known as a terrible plague, stealing wherever they went, but now, without the royal army's protection, they were a welcome sight, no crueller bandits or barbarian tribes seeking conflict with the fierce women and their loyals.

Their founding history was something unique. Their leader, Jessalyn Freeheart, had started gathering underage girls from brothels and abusive homes, setting sword and arrow in their hands instead of serving trays and needles. “Be your own woman”, the slogan, the new bandit group grew quickly even in times of peace.

No man could join. A man riding under the Winged Heart flag was but a loyal and had vowed complete devotion to one of the women, to serve and protect her as his liege. Jessalyn herself was said to have numerous loyals, some even allowed to lead own troops.

It was said that a lot of former military had joined their ranks after leaving Crocus, but Earl doubted it, the Freeheart caravan that came by ever so often still consisting of mostly women. He also found it hard to see the once high ranking knights and lords to accept a lower standing.

During the first year of chaos, the Freehearts had disappeared from the radar, at least to the inhabitants of Aster, their news flow disrupted by the Phantoms scaring the surrounding towns and villages into complete lockdown.

When food became sparse in their little town due to the stagnated trade, the scholar Earl McGarden was forced to return to his roots and leave the settlement for the old farmyard that his father had left him, once more ploughing fields and milking cows to provide for his wife.

If one needed a scribe, they would come out to the farm on a visit and bring some fish, herbs or iron, anything the farmers could make use of. Outside the large cities, money had quickly lost its value, the bronze and silver coins not editable.

Earl had feared the food shortage would cause their child to grow weak in its mother's belly, but two years into the chaos, a lively bundle of joy was born to them and he praised the gods for their wonderful gift.

Instantly had the pair of curious hazel eyes enthralled him. A small blue patch of hair had been on her little wrinkled head upon birth. “My eyes and her mother's hair”, the scholar had smiled. “Her name is Levy”, his wife had determined sternly, not putting it up for discussion. “Levy McGarden, a farmers and scholars daughter.”

It was how they brought her up, teaching her both to tend to animals and crop and to read and write, to count and analyse. Their daughter was their pride and joy and every day that life felt hard, her laughter would give them all motivation needed to get up and work, to make sure she would live a good life even as times got rougher.

Little Levy was filled with energy and an insatiable curiosity, often sitting before their large world map and dreaming herself away for hours on end. When her father asked, she would explain that she was not making anything up, that the map was telling her of the lands it pointed to.

The girl stepped into his footsteps with her passionate love for the written word, reading book after book ever since her father had taught her the construction and analysis of letters, words and sentences. Father Ryder had accepted the little girl into his library as young as six years old.

Some days, Earl felt like his little treasure understood literature far better than even him. It was like the blue haired girl saw something more than just letters in the black ink, like every word, every comma and swirl of pen was far more to her than just text.

She was a hard working and good child when her father or mother's eyes where on her, cleaning the stable, feeding the chickens and churning butter, but when she managed, she would slip into the barn. There, she would make herself comfortable in the hay and sink into the pages of a book.

The fantastic worlds of these texts offered her a thousand places to retreat to and adventure in, people to love and cheer for, events to worry about and care for. High mountain passes had she climbed with the raven on her shoulder and endless oceans had she swum through alongside the sharks and dolphins.

Every week, she would lend a new tome, rereading it at least two times before they again harnessed the horses, loaded the wagon, and made their way to the Sunday market in Aster, trading bread, leather and meat for clothes, pottery, bolts and anything else they might need.

Levy would have loved a pair of new boots, the sole of her old ones breaking apart, but this year had been tough, the winter icy cold and the summer bone dry. Nothing wanted to grow on the tired ground, even the cows growing lazy in the excruciating heat.

The small stone well on their yard was far from enough to fight the drought, the water level dangerously low already, and the walk to the river was long. The Freeheart Bandits had taken of their water supply as well only last month, feeding their horses on the farmers' hay and grain and slaughtering one of their cows to eat.

In these parts, some people went as far as calling the bandits the 'Freeheart Army' instead, greeting them as guards and giving what they have, the group only ever taking what they need, never plundering or raping.

Levy figured it was due to their history, every woman in their ranks having been through too much abuse herself to ever inflict the same on others.

The Freeheart veterans living in Aster truly gave the wooden town an invisible veil if calm, the Freehearts riding by often and, while costing the town rations, keeping the cruel men of Phantom Lord at bay.

But peace was an illusion in a lawless country such as this and one early summers evening, fourteen years into the chaos, Phantom Lord approached.

 

 


	2. The Battle for Aster

The heavy hooves of running horses and sad creak of wooden wheels fighting the muddy road echoed through the forest while the people of Aster gathered in the gravel town square, every man and woman capable of holding a weapon doing so. The veterans wore old pieces of armour and distributed their swords while most made do with pickaxes and makeshift clubs.

The warm light of torches gleamed through the trees, betraying Phantom Lord's position as they closed in along the crooked road from north and the town's few children and elders were sent into the southern woods, the elders bound to be killed if they were found and the children either facing slavery or death themselves if they did not outrun the designated riders among the thicket.

Father Ryder would not let himself be urged into hiding, insisting to sit on the grey stone step of their humble church and watch over the gods' house as he had done for the past eighty years. Killing a priest was a cowardly act and he was the meat shield between the altar's sparse golden decorations and their attackers.

Never would he let the resting place of their gods be violated. If the Phantoms wanted through the heavy wooden doors, they would first have to drench it in his blood. Not one group of raiders had dared to do so thus far, fearing the wrath of the gods if they harmed a man that could hear their whispers.

The other elder that refused to leave was their mayor. Even now, he was a strong man, tall and broad, his skin grown uneven from countless scars, caused by everything from axe and sickle as he helped out around the town to cuts and gashes of swords and clubs. The huge man never blinked twice before jumping in to protect those he called his own, the people of Aster and their surrounding fields.

Standing with his heavy woodcutter’s axe in rough, large hands, he raised the moral of every man and woman present, their knuckles going white as they clung onto their weaponry, all eyes fixed on the road where now the men of Phantom Lord spew from the woods.

Knights rode in on high war horses, dressed in battered armours painted black to hinder light reflecting on the metal surfaces and, in the shadow of their march, leather dressed rangers formed an impassable wall.

Bow and arrow or even crossbows had little use in such a crooked town, close to the woods and never giving an open field to shoot across, so the light armoured riders stayed back, keeping their eyes out for anyone trying to flee from the doomed town while their close combat specialised comrades rode in between the housings.

The people of Aster tightened their stance, calling out to reinforce another and drive fear from each other's heats as the lilac Phantom's Eye approached the town square. The large mounted steeds covered in black barding appearing between the houses and closing in along dim streets was a scary sight, casting demonic shadows on the walls of this small town.

A single rider left the blur of cavalry, alone taking the lead. The slender man rode off to the right, rounding the townspeople and drawing his sword. Father Ryder watched him calmly as he closed in and closed his eyes just before the shining blade met his skin, dressing the large church doors in red.

The old man's head rolled a few meters along the road and his body sunk back against the double doors, blood spraying the wood further and running down the stone to create a puddle in the gravel by the great horse's hooves.

The slender Phantom now turned his attention to the large group gathered in the town square and chuckled amused at their expressions, his wicked voice resonating from under the heavy helmet.

Brutally shocked by the savagery, the people of Aster attacked, missing their leader's call to stop and running into the sacrilegious Phantom blades. It was easy for the bandits to cut the stormy men and women down in their uncoordinated charge and the slaughter began.

Far into the woods could their screams be heard and the tired children's legs regained their strength, small feet running over the mossy ground as fast as they could, fear painted on innocent faces as they knew the riders would follow them far into the depths of the forest.

Young Giles ran without thought, his mind gone blank as he heard the pained calls of his family and friends, his own father and brothers in the clash of blades, partaking in the battle for Aster, if it could be called one.

His oldest brother had begged the old baker to leave, pleaded for them all to run to safety before the bandits arrived. If they sought protection from the Freeheart Army, they might make it, but this was a guaranteed slaughter. His father had grinned at that, reminding him, “You've got Freehearts right here, Son.”

Not minding his step, the youngest baker's son found himself running into the fields of the McGarden farm. He hesitated a split second before running toward the lit windows of the farmyard, yanking the door open so it bounced back against the wall loudly, and yelling, “Phantoms are coming!”

Earl stood at once, his chair falling to the floor as he hurried into the hall. “What are you saying?”, he called, wide eyes fixed on the baker's boy, sweaty from the run through the warm summer's night. “They killed everyone. You have to run!”, Giles rambled, his breathing erratic as every second he stayed, the riders neared in.

His dark brown eyes shot to the farmer's wife, standing in the door to their kitchen now, a white cotton apron bound around her waist, dusty with flour. “Earl?”, the blue haired woman asked worriedly.

Levy was standing just behind her mother and eyeing the baker's boy curiously. He was one year older than her, already having turned twelve. Not seldom did they bring extra wheat for the bakers when travelling into town and the two of them would sit and stare at another in disgust.

They had tried to talk once, when they both were just five. Levy had no recollection of what had transpired back then, but she definitively didn't like the boy. To see him in such shock was bewildering to her.

Taking a hold of her mother's skirt, she wondered if they would have to leave their home now, as Father Ryder had told her was the only sane thing to do when the Phantoms arrived. He had never doubted that they would attack one day, insisting on the phrasing 'when' instead of 'if', as her father and mother would instead. It was a subtle hint, but the scholar's daughter caught it at once.

Her father grabbed a hold of Giles and yanked him inside, an unfamiliar shout being heard from across the farm before he could get a hold of the door to shut it once more. “Get the light! Hide! Quick!”, he said and his wife hurried to blow all candles out and kill the fire in the hearth.

Levy grabbed the young baker's arm and tugged him along to the back door, sneaking into the barn and climbing the ladder onto second floor that reached one third into the large hall. She dug through the loose hay with him to where her book lay hidden in the corner. Father Ryder would surely be mad with her if she didn't return it.

Cowering together, they listened sharp as the hooves of two horses came to a stop and firm male voices spoke in the yard. Levy could hear her father's soft words through the open garret window. “You can take whatever you want, just please, don't hurt us”, he requested and a hearty, mocking laughter met his words.

Levy's eyes widened as she heard no further conversation, shaking her head lightly in disbelief. There was no way. No one would kill a man that just waved the white flag. Giles pulled her close, hoping to keep her from crying since that could cost them their own lives.

Heavy chainmaille rattled and the door to the McGarden home was once more opened with great force, the dull thud it gave as it hit the wall making it all the way up to the hiding children. Levy could hear her mother scream, pots and other items falling to the floor and a man roaring in anger.

Creeping closer to the window, the two children tried to see what was going on. As they settled right under the empty wooden frame and glanced down to the house, Levy spotted her mother through the kitchen windows, a dark figure holding a knife toward her and urging her further into the house.

Giles hand again found the scholar's daughter's shoulder and she sunk back before they were seen in turn.

Her mother's cries were dulled by the closed windows of their home, but that did nothing to lessen their effect on the young McGarden. She brought her hands over her ears in an effort to block the wailing out, tears finding their way down her cheeks in turn as she tried with all her might to breathe easy.

It felt like her mother's slowly quieting sobs went on for an eternity before they finally stilled entirely and the two men stepped out from the farmer's house, looking around the yard and apparently searching for something as they motioned the two sturdy brown horses to stay put.

One of the men was huge, broad as the mayor and covered in a black painted full plate amour like a knight of the devil himself. The other man was of average statue, dressed in dark leather armour and a chainmaille shirt.

Two scabbards at his belt indicated that he was a swordsman, not an archer or arbalist, the ranged fighters often sharing this kind of attire while a rogue would wear cloth and leather only to ensure his stride was dead quiet.

The leather cap on the swordsman's head was bound sloppily, but he didn't seem to mind as his eyes scanned the area. “Maybe he ran”, the black knight shrugged disinterested. “At least try before giving in”, his comrade complained and made his way toward the farm's small cowshed. The heavily armoured man seemed less than thrilled, walking toward the barn in a slow stride.

Levy and Giles scrambled further into the heaps of hay and stilled as the heavy clinking of metal stopped and the barn door was pulled to the side.

They held onto another hard, not even daring to breathe as the Phantom trampled about in the barn below them. The black figure stopped in the middle of the room and they watched through the gaps in the loose hay. The helmet covered head turned toward them as the hay they had disturbed slowly fell together again around them and fear struck their harts deeper than ever before.

A black gauntlet came up and pushed the visor up, revealing a pair of unholy red eyes. The fierce gaze of this Phantom seemed to pierce right into their hiding spot and when the man took a step, Giles scrambled up and pulled the scholar’s daughter with him toward the open window.

Letting themselves fall down onto the hard ground below and running for their lives through the wheat fields, they could hear a whistle and soon hooves galloping after them through the sparse crops.

They didn't get far before the black knight's mighty horse stopped before them, the man taking a hold of Giles and yanking him over the saddle before riding after and catching the blue haired girl by the arm. Levy screamed and fought against the iron hold while the baker's son drummed his fists against the firm black chest plate with little result.

The Phantom's comrade, in contrast to this spectacle, trotted toward them calmly, praising the catch happily. “What a pretty little gal”, he laughed, eyeing Levy amused through blue eyes.

“Since you insisted on this, you can have the kicking brat”, the knight growled irritably and shoved the baker's boy onto his comrade’s horse, the swordsman holding the still scrambling child down hard. He twisted the boy's wrist and Giles stilled in a whine of pain.

“Stop it! Let go of him!”, Levy demanded through her tears, kicking out toward the large warhorse. The black knight tugged her up over his own saddle and pain shot through her body as a metal covered arm came down on her spine. The man leaned over her and warned, “You better behave, Shrimp.”

His red irises again struck the small girl with terror, her teary and reddened eyes wide as she stared back into them. She could see a few piercings on either side of the man's nose in the dim evening's light before he slid the visor back down, the girl once more faced with but the slim slits that allowed the knight to see.

Levy held perfectly still as the men turned their horses around to take them back. She tried to hold back any further tears as they rode past the McGarden farm and toward Aster, Giles lying limp over the blue eyed man's saddle now, like all will had left his body in the instant he'd been caught.

It didn't go past the scholar's daughter that the swordsman kept eyeing her and she shrunk together more as she lay still on her stomach. When she slipped, the knight took a hold of her tugged her back up roughly. “Sit up dammit”, he complained angrily and she scrambled to sit, keeping both feet on the right of the horse as not to seem indecent in front of the men.

She would usually ride like a boy since it was a more stable way of seating yourself, especially when riding without sidesaddle, but now she sat in an orange dress and not riding trousers. The metal gauntlets on each side of her had to be enough safety during their trip into town.

Her torn and dirty leather boots dangled against the rider's leg and she tried to shift a little to prevent it only to get another irritated shove. “Don't you know how to ride, Shrimp? Hold the fuck still”, the fierce voice growled and she tensed, sitting stock still until the lights of Aster came into view in the distance.

 


	3. A Phantom Base

As the two brown warhorses trotted along the road into town, Levy could already see tracks of the devastation. The Phantom's Eye was hanging on black cloth both left and right of the main road on the outer walls of the wooden housings, there being no town gate to place the flag over.

Blood stained armour was piled up outside the outermost ring of wooden walls, being washed in the almost dry river by a young boy, most probably robbed from his own home in another town. His eyes curiously followed the two new children, but quickly snapped back to the black metal in his hands as the chainmaille dressed rider met his gaze warningly.

Giles was still lying limp before the rider and Levy almost wondered if he had died, but surely the designated Phantom riders would have dumped him along the way hadn't he been breathing any more. There was no value in a corpse other than tinder or feed for dogs and they surely had more than enough dead meat now.

Her hazel eyes turned back to search the crowd for any familiar faces, but there were only strangers walking along these alienated roads, carrying crates and sacks of food and cloth, barring windows and building a watchtower and paddock close by. Phantom Lord was not just looting, they were aiming to erect a new base in the small southern town.

Aster may not look like much, but it was located close to the ocean and if Phantom Lord was aiming to expand further, they would need access to the water. Boats were every large army's greatest asset, able to travel long distances in short time and transport large amounts of cargo between cities without the need of numerous carts, horses, men and perhaps most notably without the constant threat of attacks by rivals.

They would have to fortify Aster properly if it was to serve them as access route toward Holly and its harbour, but once stone walls stood, the forest was thinned out and towers were raised, it would be a perfect resting spot for caravans headed even further down toward the eastern corner of the almost straight coast that marked Fiore's south end, the Southern Line.

As they turned into the small town square, Levy's eyes went wide, a large pile of corpses to one side and the entire gravel ground sticky with red fluid.

There lay everyone that had built the wooden town, that had worked and lived in Aster for years, everyone that Levy had ever known. Giles father and brothers, the tailor, butcher, candler, wine seller, tanner, their smiths, carpenters, roofers and even the two lovely tavern owners Charles and Henry, all were they carelessly thrown into a pile.

Aster once used to have two taverns, one in the west and one in the east. There had been an eternal argument about witch had the best mead, at times going so far as escalating into drunken fistfights between the farmers and carpenters.

Tired of the constant nagging, the tavern owners' sons decided to bring the feud to an end in the simplest, craziest and smartest way possible once they inherited the two halls. They simply combined the taverns into one establishment.

Everyone had helped out with the new building, the main entrance right by the town square. Father Ryder had at first complained they were being foolish by placing a tavern this close to the church, but since, the fighting had stopped. There was an agreement in Aster that the C and H tavern was the best in all of Fiore.

The former drinking halls on either side of town had been given to the nearby smithery and carpenter respective as extension to their shops while the stools in the new hall were cheerfully claimed.

Today, the laughter dully heard through the small windows of the C and H tavern was not that of proud workers, though, but that of resting Phantoms, celebrating their acts of cruelty. Hatred filled the little McGarden daughter at the sound of cheerful jest to the horrific scene before her.

Their mayor had gotten a special treatment, his body nailed up on a pole erected in the very middle of town and the separated head on its spike just above. He was blood drenched and mauled, only recognisable by his half bald head and the thick bulge on his left arm.

He had saved Levy's father from a rampaging oxen when the scholar was but a boy. While wringing with bovine, its horn pierced the mayor arm and caused an inflammation that even under the caring hand of Father Ryder had grown into a large chunk of outward jutting flesh before finally healing out.

Levy remember when they had been sitting in the large inn and she had heard the story for the hundredth time, the mayor insisting she should feel the hardened skin. “That's what saved him! This is why you're even here, Gal”, the huge man would boast and laugh drunkenly. Levy's father would smile widely as his wife tried to get the mayor to sit back down before he toppled over.

Early had the scholar's daughter learned to respect and love the huge and rough man and his odd ways. Everyone knew he had a gentle heart behind that brash mouth and all those exaggerated boasting stories of his adventures, telling of all the men and women he had fought to protect over the years.

One could forget he was sixty five years old when he climbed the bar and flung his arms about as he told the story of his fight with a bear, again showing the deep cut in his leg. Everyone knew it was caused by an axe, but it was always said, a good story should not be questioned.

Levy swallowed hard, finally finding it in herself to avert her eyes from the man that now served as Phantom Lord's trophy. Instead spotting the blood stained church door, she gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth. She instantly knew who had died on the low stone step.

What monster would murder an old man, a priest of the gods? The Phantoms were not just bandits, they were unholy men with no regard for life, no fear for deities, no respect for anything in this world.

Father Ryder had always been a very calm and collected man, his protest always merely verbal and his voice soft when he explained the same maths problem for the thousandth time. There was no way he had given the Phantoms any reason for murder, had in any way challenged the riders further than with his presence at the step of Aster Church.

The horses came to a stop, but her eyes didn't leave the red stained wood until she was grabbed and heaved down, the black knight dismounting as well and landing beside her heavily, one metal hand taking her shoulder shortly in warning.

As if she would run now, in the heart of a Phantom encampment. She was no fool. If she ran now, she was dead, just as everyone else. No, she was trapped here. Was there anyone else left at all? She couldn't tell, but she feared she knew the answer nonetheless.

Her eyes dared look over to the pile of corpses once more as the body of another woman was added to it. Two men heaved the body up and threw it onto the heap. She couldn't even say who it was, limbs twisted and the entire form unrecognisable between dirt and blood. She didn't even want to think on the reason for the corpses late arrival on the heap.

Even the gravel under her feet was red and she was glad to have the rugged old boots on her feet at least, the stench of slowly coagulating blood creeping into her nose as they stood still. Giles was pulled down and stood beside her now, his head finally lifting to look over the same scene the scholar's daughter had seen.

No horror spread over his face, his gaze empty as he stared in the direction of the mayor's corpse where it was presented so cruelly. He too noticed the church door, but no emotion made its way through his emotionless mask before his dark brown eyes rose to a man approaching.

The slender man was finely dressed, a rich robe falling over expensive blue trousers. An amused smirk decorated his face, spreading out under his long pointy nose and small greedy eyes. Short cut and combed black hair and a golden amulet around his neck, he had to be of high standing among Phantom Lord.

Levy guessed he was the one who led the attack on their town, already having bothered to change and now strutting around in the scene of slaughter, not lifting a finger to clean or build. Not even the red stains that had crept to his thick leather boots seemed to trouble this rich man.

He pointed toward the heap of corpses with a toothy grin as he closed in and the swordsman behind Giles chuckled delighted. “I see you didn't need us Owen”, he smiled. “Most centrally not”, the slender leader laughed.

“And what is this?”, he asked amused, looking down at the two children the last of his designated riders had brought back. “Some farmer's daughter”, the black knight answered and Levy shrunk together under the inspecting gaze of the finely dressed Phantom, not daring to meet his eyes but also not daring to be as impolite as not to look up at him.

Owen's black eyes turned to Giles. “And this tiny runt? He's no more than skin and bones”, he asked sceptically, gaining a shrug from the heavily armoured man. “He ran from town is all I know”, the second rider explained. “Oh Laurence, why did you even bring him here?”, the leader sighed. “Hey Runt, is there anything you can actually do?”, he asked.

“Not for you”, Giles responded, his voice shaky as knew exactly what would follow when he defied the Phantom Lord bandits like this. Owen drew his sword and Levy closed her eyes, only hearing the blade fall, the breaking of a spine, and the young body hitting the ground. She was shaking as the man's gaze wandered back to her, begging the gods they would let her live.

“At least we got one. The other children of this town were all sick and weak, probably due to the drought. Take the girl into the house over there. It's the cellar for now”, he ordered and Levy found herself grabbed by cold metal hands once more, keeping her head turned from the body of the boy she had been hiding with less than an hour ago as she was lead into the mayor's house.

She was lead through the broad hallway, the mayor's thick mantle still hanging here beside well built shelves. Being pushed through a door, she stumbled to the floor, her legs weakened by fear. Hearing something heavy being placed before the door to the small bedroom, she knew that was not a way to get back out.

Looking around, she realised just where she was. This had been the mayor's adoptive son's room. He had lost his mother during his own birth and his father to sickness at the age of five. The mayor had taken him in and he had early on been deemed the only possible heir, not as strong, but surely twice as smart as their old mayor had been. Surely, he lay among the corpses as well now.

Levy scrambled up at once and checked the window, but the bandits had already nailed it shut, locking her inside the sparsely furnished wooden chamber. There was but a bed and a chest for clothes, most not needing more as they spent all day working or drinking, often times both in one day, the hard work celebrated in the evening with beer and roasted meat.

Outside the barred window, Levy could see numerous Phantoms carry tools and planks out of the workshops to build on this new base. She would not be transported along any roads where they might run into other groups. She would stay here and live under the black flag of Phantom Lord, the lilac mark already waving proudly on the church roof, the Phantom's Eye watching all.

Dejected, the young scholar's daughter let herself fall onto the bed, rolling together on the soft hay mattress. Clutching her chest, she finally allowed herself to cry. She sobbed, desperate prayers mumbled between hitched breaths. Her entire being trembled in despair as tears rolled down onto the mattress until there was a wet stain and her eyes hurt too much to keep on crying any longer.

Exhaustion was the only thing that managed to rock her to sleep as a hundred unknown voices talked outside, hammers falling against iron nails and horses being lead back and forth over gravel roads. The entire night through, the tumult continued, creeping into the young McGarden's dream and preventing her from resting easy, nightmares shaking her back to life.

Sitting up with a start, Levy squinted around the room and realised the first morning's light was already dancing in through the window to her cell. She spotted a wooden bowl on the floor, filled with soup, and a piece of bread. A shudder went down her spine at the though that someone had been in here without her even noticing.

Eyeing the bowl cautiously for a full five minutes, she determined that if they didn't feed her something editable, she would die either way, and picked the bow up. Bringing the yet warm smooth wood to her lips, she tried the broth and was inclined to hum in delight. She hadn't felt this hungry in ages, the excitement form the day before far too much for her small body.

She hungrily gulped the lean soup down and then caught the last of it with the piece of bread, eating it up as well before looking back out the window to watch the phantoms build, binding ropes to wooden planks and pulling them up the slowly growing construction of their watchtower.

Once it was finished, their position would be far harder to attack. There was little hope for Levy to ever leave this place again.  


	4. The Black Steel Knight

As the days went by, Levy found out who it was that brought her food and cleaned the chamber pot. A young boy was assigned to care for their captives, namely only Levy. He would come by early in the mornings, when the girl mostly still slept tight.

He could not be more then fifteen himself and she wondered if it was the same boy she had seen the evening of the attack, the one that had scrubbed the blood of her friends and acquaintances from the black plate armours by Aster's Run. It might very well be, not many of his age in the mix.

The bandits had taken the time to install a proper sliding lock to the outside of her room on the second day and the boy could thanks to it enter and bring the door back into lock on his own. She had played with the thought of knocking him over and running, but she knew there was no hope to outrun the horses even among the trees.

Every time she heard the clink of the metal chain against the wooden door, she would sit up and stare at the boy as he entered, the brown haired teenager himself avoiding her gaze best he could as he did his job and left again.

He was dressed in but rags, firm old workers clothes and a pair of old boots, not much different from Levy's own, now standing by the foot end of her bed. His brown hair was obviously not cut with much care. Perhaps he did it himself, the right side always shorter than the left.

When Levy had dared to ask his name, he had just shaken his head and left again. She had remained silent whenever he came to her since, not wanting to bring him any unnecessary trouble with the men of Phantom Lord.

After a week, she was given a bowl of water and rag to wash with, which she happily did, feeling disgusting with all the sweat clinging onto her skin. The drought was still fact and the sun was warming her room mercilessly every day. She didn't even have a way to vent or cool off, often just lying on the ground because it was a little cooler than the bed.

Searching through the wooden chest for a tunic that didn't reach the ground when she pulled it over her head, she wondered just what the Phantoms wanted with her. Why didn't they force her to work as well? What good could a captive be that did nothing but eat and sleep?

Well, there was one more thing she did; she watched. The watchtower that was being constructed in the other end of town had grown a lot in height, now featuring two platforms and still climbing toward the clouds.

Their construction was robust, but for one flaw. Levy had seen how the right side middle section had been built, the single worker left to finish it in the hot afternoon sun growing lazy and bungling the work terribly. It was strange that they had not noticed it so far.

If someone was to burn that stock with a flaming arrow coated in tar, the entire construction would come tumbling down. Sadly, she had no access to anything of the sort, but she would sit by the window and press her finder against the glass so it looked like she could push the beam away.

It was strangely satisfying to think of the men climbing on the higher construct falling to their deaths, the ones below it being crushed under the heavy wood.

Levy had observed all horses being lead toward the northern side of town as well, figuring the paddock must be ready. What bewildered her a little was that they still had not bothered to remove the corpses littering the town square, quite glad not to smell the stench of rotting meat through the closed window even if it was starting to get a little stuffy in her cell.

The rats, birds, raccoons and occasional fox that picked on the sun warmed corpses at least gave her something to watch when she couldn't sleep, the lights of the tavern enough to illuminate their small bodies scurrying across the gravel. There not having been a proper day of rain, blood stains still littered the streets.

It wasn't too long before Owen seemed to find it too much to bare, though, ordering a large fire. The stake the mayor hung from was ripped from the ground and tossed onto the heap before wood and tinder was placed and everything was set alight. All Phantoms made a long bow around the probably terrible reek of the black smoke.

The next morning, but a large pile of ash and bone remained on the town square, being shovelled into sacks and transported away, probably to be dumped in the woods or on the fields so the ash wouldn't be caught in the wind and cause trouble in town.

As the door lock once more slid to the side, Levy turned around on the bed. She was surprised as not the young boy, but a grown man stepped into her cell. He was tall and slender, blond hair cut short. He smirked widely and she realised she'd met him before.

He was the dedicated rider that had taken Giles back into town. Stiff in fear, she edged back against the wall. “No need to be shy little girl”, the man mused, his voice confirming for her that it indeed was Laurence that had decided to visit her.

Closing the door behind himself, he strode across the room, his blue eyes wandering over her small frame as he sat down beside her on the bed, his somewhat large tunic bunching up around his waist. “Now, now, come here”, he coaxed softly, reaching out toward the young girl.

He caressed over her cheek and she arched away. When his hand trailed down her neck, she swat his arm away, trying to hide in the very corner of the room and curling together with her knees drawn up against her chest. “What kind of treatment is that? We let you live, remember? We even feed you, and that is how you show your gratitude?”, the swordsman laughed.

She mentally begged for him to leave her be, but his warm hand came back to her, taking a hold of her arm and pulling her toward him. “No, please”, she pleaded, trying to wring her arm free. “Just hold still”, the man snarled, all softness and humour gone from his voice now.

He tugged her closer and pushed her down against the sheets, his far larger and heavier body making it easy for him to force the girl onto her back underneath himself. Levy screamed and kicked, but was quickly overpowered by the blonde, his grip on her ankle hard as he drew her legs around him.

“Lie still or this will really hurt”, he warned angrily, but the scholar's daughter didn't stop fighting, arching away when he brought his face close to her own and pressing her other foot against his stomach in an effort to pry him from her.

It did little but irritate Laurence, the man taking a hold of her wrists and pinning them down over her head before once more forcing himself between her legs. He took a strong hold of her chin and forced her to face him as he once more leaned down, pressing a firm kiss to her lips.

It was the young girl's first kiss this man so brutally stole, licking over her lips with his disgusting tongue, and she felt tears form in her eyes. That had been meant for someone special, for a kind and loving man, not a ruthless bandit.

Anger and fear mixed in her heart as she kicked against the man's legs with little result. He promptly set his knees down over her thighs and she flinched in pain. She screamed and cried as he reached down to his trousers to untie them. Wringing in his hold with all strength left in her, she tried everything, but he was too strong, to heavy.

Once he had freed himself, the hand came up to tug her tunic over her hips, it being all clothes on the little girl. Levy closed her eyes, turning her face away and feeling her breath getting stuck in her throat as the man violated her with his hand, feeling over parts of her he had no right to be touching.

His fingers felt utterly disgusting as they traced along her labia, but there was nothing she could do to stop him, to hinder this man from raping her. All she could do was scream and cry, but it would not make him inching closer any less factual, it would not make him change his mind or bring his erect cock to a flaccid state.

The heavy wooden door opened again and she instantly stilled, unsure if it was the answer to her prayer or an addition to her hell. “What the hell are you doing?”, she heard the familiar deep voice of the black knight that had caught her, the man that had shoved her into this very room three weeks ago.

“What? I'm just having a little fun”, Laurence grinned and the other Phantom stepped further into the room. Levy dared not move a muscle, her breathing shallow as she squeezed her eyes shut firmly. Even as she attempted to lie still, her body was trembling under the disgusting hands of the blond man.

“And what makes you think I would let you?”, the black knight asked. When he got no verbal answer, he continued in a low, threatening rumble, “I found her. She's mine.” “Oh, come on. You don't even like her”, Laurence smiled light-heartedly. “Get the fuck away from my property”, the black knight growled and Levy could hear the blonde's snarl before his hands left her body.

As soon as his weight left her bed, she curled together, almost holding her breath as the black knight warned the other Phantom that he would lose his cock if he tried it again. “Right, right, woah, just actually make a use of her, will ya, Black Steel? She's no good alive if all she does is eat”, the blonde teased before he left.

Levy curled together even tighter. It was no better to have the red eyed Phantom take her. If anything, he was even scarier. She was shaking when the heavy steps closed in, betraying his approached toward the bed. He stopped just beside her and she tired to hold back any further tears. She would not make a second scene, would not humiliate herself further that way.

She jerked as she felt his hand bush her skin, first realising a second later that he had tossed the blanket over her.

Shocked and bewildered, she dared glance over her shoulder, meeting his fierce red eyes. There was no warmth to them as he looked back at her. His skin was slightly darker than her own and his face was framed by a wild mane of thick raven hair.

The piercings she had noticed on the day of her capture was but a little part of his body art, studs replacing his eyebrows, going down the bridge of his nose on either side and lining the middle of his chin, a row of metal dots decorating each ear.

Even his exposed upper arms had a metal décor to them, accompanied by deep scars left after various swords and axes. Some even looked like marks of whip strikes, it hurting terribly to be hit over the arms with firm leather.

It was definitively not just the armour that made him look big, his tall and broad figure intimidating as he towered over her lying frame. He did seem a little less like a murder machine in simple cloth and belt. The brown bound tunic and crème trousers had him seem a little more causal, a little more human compared to his looks when covered in black armour from head to toe.

His eyes darted up to look through the window instead and after a moment of seemingly deep thought, he turned and left, sliding the lock back and heavy boots echoing in the hall until he left the house.

Levy let out a deep breath and sat up, looking out the window to try and see him. What was that about? Why would he insist she was his and then leave? It made no sense whatsoever. What Laurence had said was true, was it not? She was of no use like this. Not that she was about to complain to be saved, but she just couldn't make sense of it.

Could it be that the black steel knight was kinder at heart than he appeared to be? In that case, it was lucky he had claimed her. It still didn't get her out of her imprisonment, though, and he was at least cruel enough to kill her family and bring her here, to ride with Phantom Lord and hunt for the fleeing children, to capture and enslave them, even carry them right toward their execution.

Levy watched until the broad man disappeared into the tavern and then fell back against the sheets, hugging the blanket tight. What was going to become of her? Was Laurence going to try again when the black knight wasn't around? Would the black steel knight himself take her?

She closed her eyes and tried not to think on it as she for the seemingly hundredth time cried herself to sleep in this lonely room.


	5. A Free Heart

Levy was sitting by the window again the next morning. Still shaken from the happenings of the previous day, she kept an eye out for Laurence, sure she would be able to spot him should he approach the house from the south.

The brown haired boy had been by and brought her food again this morning, but Levy hadn't eaten yet, not particularly hungry. Her appetite had decreased the entire time she'd been here, depression slowly but steadily wrapping its dark arms around her mind, caressing her when tears again rolled down her cheeks.

She had lost a lot of weight during her time here, even _feeling_ thinner. Perhaps she would become too thin to even be of any value soon, to work or even walk.

Life was unfair. Why did she have to end up like this? What had she done wrong to deserve this? What was the point of it all if she was to sit here every day for the rest of her life? If only she simply had been murdered along with the rest.

She let her head fall against the glass, her forehead pressed against the cool surface. Soon, it would become far too warm again and soon would she grow sleepy again, the stuffy warm air becoming too much to handle.

A book she read a while ago told about air being used up in an enclosed area such as this. Perhaps she would run out and suffocate. At least it would be the end of this miserable caged existence.

Even with all the adventures she had read about and all the worlds she could call upon to occupy herself, life was incredibly dull when experienced from behind a closed window. There was no field to run though, no tree to climb, no river to bathe in or horseback to mount, only the same old bed and the same old view.

It was tiresome, especially since that view was but the rise of Phantom Lord, bandits walking along the gravel roads with smiles on their faces, using the town they had taken by spilling litres of her friends' blood and eating from bread loafs made on the harvests they had stolen

The construction of the watchtower was almost finished now and many Phantoms were climbing around on the construct to bring the last pieces into place. Pushing her finger against the glass to cover the shaky wooden beam of the tower again, she cursed all Phantoms, hoping they all die. She pressed her finger against the window firmer, clenching her teeth in anger.

When the wood suddenly burst into flame, she jerked back. She stared at the fire wide eyed, the beam soon breaking off and the tower collapsing, bending over in the middle and tumbling down, all men on it falling with screams of fear and pain.

The tumult picked up all around town in an instant. Phantoms threw themselves into the town hall where they had placed their armoury and people were calling across the crooked roads, “Bandits!” Aster was under attack once more.

Levy watched with fascination as the tower she had wished to burn every day since her capture fell into pieces, burying the men trapped under its masses further for every piece that broke off. Not many made their way from underneath the rouble and those that did were greeted by sharp blades and stone arrowheads.

Knights in shining armour and masked rogue riders in leather, swordsmen in chainmaille, half plates, brown caps or covering helmets rode into town from every direction, having successfully encircled the encampment in the safety of darkness. After them followed archers and arbalists, crossbows loaded and bows at the ready.

Screams could be heard all over Aster as the riders pushed toward the town square, cutting the unarmed and unprepared Phantoms down as they went, pulling them from their horses and driving them together like pigs for the slaughter.

Blood dripping from numerous swords, the attackers gathered in the town square and Levy recognised the emblem on the knights' caparisons at once, the Winged Heart. Thee distinct white feathers were jutting upward in a semi circle around the red cordiform symbol, skilfully embroidered on marine blue cloth.

The Freeheart Bandits had come to take revenge for their murdered comrades. Levy was close to tears yet again, but for once due to relief.

There were a lot of attackers, outnumbering their rivals at least two to one. The remaining Phantom's had barricaded themselves in the town hall, trapped in their own base as the women of Freeheart and their loyals had taken control of the area, cutting all escape routes off.

On their leader's gesture, half the riders dismounted, drawing sword and axe. The full plate dressed fighters gathered around the entrance to the large hall while their lighter armoured comrades backed them with bow and crossbow, strings taunt.

The scholar's daughter balled her hands to fists on her lap as she watched one knight reach for the door, the men inside surely prepared with heavy bolts on sturdy crossbows as well, yet she could do nothing but watch from her cell, tense as the armoured hand caught hold of the iron door handle.

As soon as the double doors to the large hall swung open, a rain of bolts soared out and three Freehearts fell off their horses, blood gushing forth, and the rest of their force threw themselves at the Phantoms emerging from the building, swords clashing and the Freehearts not giving any ground until they finally stormed the hall and made sure every last Phantom lay dead at their feet.

The young girl watched and cheered, calling out in joy as the battle was settled. This meant she would once more be given her freedom. It didn't even bewilder her any longer that every Phantom's death brought her satisfaction. It was only natural after what they had done to her family and friends.

She waited patiently as the Freeheart Bandits regrouped. She knew that they would walk through town and collect valuables before leaving, and when they did, they were bound to find and free her.

Once the bandits spread out, she rearranged the long olive tunic hanging around her and rose from the bed, standing on tip toe to get a glance of just whom it was that headed her way, that would enter the Mayor's house and find her.

It was a red haired woman in her thirties, dressed in leather, chainmaille and a shining chest plate. The Freeheart had a deep scar on her forehead, but to Levy she was the most beautiful being in the world at this moment, her kind face a welcome contrast to the constant harsh eyes of the Phantoms.

As the woman rounded the house, Levy ran over to the door of her room, knocking on the wood so she would be noticed.

The sudden knocking from a looked room in this otherwise empty house had the Freeheart woman draw her sword. She slid the metal lock to the side and pulled the door open, ready for anything.

Levy jerked back as the blade was held up so close to her, but the Freeheart lowered her sword as soon as she spotted the young girl on the other side of the unlocked door.

“What are you doing here?”, she asked bewildered, pulling the leather and chainmaille hood from her messy short cut hair and kneeling down beside the sickly thin hazel eyed girl, uncombed stains of blue hair sticking against her forehead, dirty from old sweat.

“I was taken when they killed everyone”, Levy told the redhead, suddenly feeling energy return to her at the promise of leaving this place. “My, come on Little”, the Freeheart woman said softly, placing a leather guarded hand on the slim child's shoulder for the girl to walk before her.

Taking a deep breath, the scholar's daughter stepped out of her room. The air was already refreshing in contrast to the room she'd been locked in for just shy of a month. Walking before the red haired woman, she headed for the door.

She used to love visiting this house, to sit in the large kitchen and eat with the mayor and his son. They would just sit and chat for hours, long after the meal was finished. Her father would read the news report that was sent to the mayor aloud for the illiterate man and the broad mayor would stroke his chin thoughtfully whenever part of it troubled him.

When Levy was little, the news she got to hear here were mostly about a wolf roaming or a few guards travelling along close by, but later the letters had become more sparse and only told of the next town's fall, the bandit flags spotted in the area and perhaps an important individual's death.

Despite the warm familiarity this hallway once held, she now wanted nothing more than leave the hell house, the cell she had been imprisoned and abandoned in, the place where one of the bandits had aimed to rape her, had stolen her first kiss with force.

Stopping shortly by the coat rack, she reached up and picked the mayor's large black coat down, folding it in her arms and then striding into the sunlight with a relieved sigh.

The heavy coat was the best item she could think of to take with her from Aster. It was a reminder and a good piece of winter clothing, the grey fur trimming along neck and sleeves made entirely from wolf tails. According to the mayor himself, it were all animals he had personally hunted down, but Levy doubted it, figuring it to be one of his boasting stories.

The soft-spoken Freeheart bandit urged her on with a hand and she walked further into town, past streaks of blood and clusters of dead men. The corpses now littering the streets caused her no grief. This bloodshed she could agree with, cruel as it may be in turn.

She was led past other men and women that gave her curious glances, carrying goods out of the houses and packing them onto the carts now parked in the middle of the gravel town square. Passing the transport, they reached a group of knights inspecting the town hall.

Blood thickly ran down into the gravel road from inside, the wooden flooring worked smooth by thousands of feet over the years. The pattering as it ran between the boards and dropped onto the ground underneath the house was a strangely dull testament of the battle.

Usually it was water that dampened the firm ground hidden under the flooring after every large gathering, but this red fluid was almost as cleansing to the town's most important building after the Phantom Lord occupation.

“Oy Jess, look what I found”, the redhead behind Levy called and one of the knights turned to them. The metal of her armour was well polished and shining brightly in the sun, giving her an impressive aura as she through the slits of her visor inspect the sick looking girl.

Green eyes and long lilac hair tied up into a strict ponytail left a strong impression even as the metal helmet was pulled off and handed to a man at her side. She seemed to be a little older than the redhead, closing in on her forties.

The man she handed her helmet to was dressed in finest full plate armour as well, a heavy broadsword strapped to his back instead of short swords as his liege and a pair of firm black eyes watching attentively through the open visor.

Black jagged marks were sitting right under the corners of his eyes and a lock of silver hair was visible as well, messily falling into his face. The only thing missing was a large bright cloak and they would look like wealthy nobles, like generals of The Crown.

“You were a captive?”, the lilac haired woman asked and Levy nodded, “Ah, yes Ma'am.” The tall man smirked, amused by the girl's politeness toward a bandit, but the green eyed woman's expression stayed a serious calm when she spoke anew.

“I am Jessalyn Freeheart, the leader of the Freeheart Bandits, and this is one of my loyals, Erigor. I'm glad at least one survived the Phantoms' slaughter here. Good thing we could free you. Choose your own path from here on, Young One.”

“I want to come with you”, the girl said at once and Jessalyn nodded, “You are welcome to do so. What is your name?” “Levy McGarden, Ma'am”, the girl answered dutifully. “Lose the last name Levy, you are a Freeheart now, and stop calling me Ma'am, I am no lady, just a bandit”, the leader lectured.

She pointed to the redhead still standing behind the young scholar's daughter. “Get her ready, Rose, we won't stay long”, she ordered and the woman gave an obedient bow before taking Levy's shoulder and leading her back north.

“Welcome, Levy Freeheart”, she smiled and the scholar's daughter's lips curled up a little as well. She was so relieved she wouldn't have to walk away on her own to who knows what kind of place, but would be able to find a meaningful future among the Freehearts.

“How old are you Girl?”, Rose asked. “Eleven”, the blunette answered. “Wow, you really are young. You have to be either really strong or really witty”, the redhead joked, trying to take the girls mind off the marks of slaughter surrounding them. “I'm a scholar' daughter”, Levy told her and she chuckled amused, “that's unusual.”

Smoke still rising from burning construct to the south, Levy wondered, “How did you know about the tower?” “Hm? What, the weak beam? It was pretty obvious, really, a very sloppy construction. They must have been working from some drawing without any clue what they're even doing”, Rose shrugged. “One of the men flunked while building on his own”, the girl said and she smiled a little.

The skinny girl was definitively not dumb, at her age able to tell such a thing even though it wasn't part of her families line of work. Scholars living out in the country like this would usually only work as scribes or read letters to the townspeople. Some perhaps even knew a few basic tricks of medicine if there was no healer, but not much else.

“I thought I would never get out of here again”, the girl admitted. Rose knew just how scary it was to be taken away by bandits, to see everyone you love killed and being kept as personal entertainment for the men.

“We came here because we saw a fire. We were worried with the drought so strong in these parts, but instead of a simple accident, we find a bunch of Phantoms in one of our towns”, she hissed. “That's why they didn't burn them at once”, Levy said in sudden understanding and gained a questioning look from the redhead.

“They waited very long before burning the dead. I was wondering why”, she explained and Rose burst into a hearty laughter, “Haha, that's golden, they're scared of us!” “Guess it was not without reason. No one messes with a Freeheart”, she added in a proud grin.

Walking past the last wooden houses, they ended by the newly built paddock where several men and women were harnessing the horses and bringing them into line to take with them.

“Kageyama, Give the gal a horse, she's one of us now”, Rose called and one of the men stopped the black horse he was leading, instead bringing it over to them and handing the reins to the small blue haired girl.

He was a slender man of average height, his semi long black hair tied back smoothly. Dressed in only cloth and leather and armed with but a dagger at his belt, Levy guessed him a rouge of some sort.

“Can you ride without side saddle?”, he asked. “Yea, I usually do”, the scholar's daughter answered and he smiled, offering, “Let me help you up”, and holding his hands together for her to take a step.

Happy about the gentle gesture, Levy placed her bare foot in the man's hands and swung herself into the saddle. She bunched the large black coat up anew, it being far too warm to wear it, and placed it before herself securely.

“Ride into the yard and wait for everyone else”, Rose said and she nodded, giving the black steed a small nudge and trotting back into town on its back. It might take until noon to get everything sorted for them to leave, but she didn't really mind, just indulging in the feeling of finally breathing fresh air again.

 

 


	6. The Tunnel Into Mai

Levy took one last look back at Aster when they rode north, her own steed following right behind the line of unmanned horses they had taken from the Phantoms, sacks of grain and other looted items strapped onto their saddles.

The Phantom flags had been burned and the Winged Heart left in blood on the walls as warning and message to any Phantom patrols riding by the town, something bound to happen now that they would lose contact to the short-lived outpost.

They were supposed to know exactly what happened here and why, that the Freeheart Bandits had gotten their revenge. No one attacked a Freeheart protected town and got away with it, not even the Phantom Lord himself.

Levy bid her home farewell as the last house disappeared from view when they rounded the first crook of the northern road that would lead them around the hill and down south.

“Can I ask something?”, she wondered. “Of course. What is it?”, asked Kageyama. “There was a young boy, fifteen maybe. He wasn't there by free will. Was he killed as well?”, the scholars daughter asked and the man made a face, answering truthfully, “I wouldn't know, but most probably.” Levy nodded a little, having expected as much.

She tried to store the memory of his quiet visits into the back of her mind and lifted her head. Never would she see Aster again, but her heart was finally filled with hope once more as she watched the caravan ride on before them, toward for her unknown lands and an adventurous future.

Little did she know how soon she would see the next battle unfold. The Freeheart Bandits were on a crusade against Phantom Lord after they not only slaughtered the people of Aster, where a whole bunch of Freeheart veterans had lived, but also had claimed the cities Iris, Ilima and Mai.

These Freeheart cities where three of the four large harbour cities, spread out across the eastern coast, that the proud women called their own and where their marine blue flags waved over every gate.

Holly would surely have been the next target, but the defeat in Aster should stop such an attack. To ride all the way down into the harbour town without a free back would be foolish indeed and the Phantom Lord was a clever tactician.

A troop of bandits had been stationed in the westernmost Freeheart harbour city nonetheless, if only to assure the people that they had nothing to fear from the Phantoms as long as they stayed loyal to the heart and feather decorated flag.

The Freeheart Bandits needed the harbour city to stay strong, to maintain the shipping routes between the Southern Line and the city of Hargeon, further northeast, where their main base was located. That way they could keep trading the Hargeon salt and cloth for southern iron.

Levy had never even know that the bandit group was quite this big, this organised. Riding toward the closest city, Isis, she kept bombarding Cobra with questions. The knight was a loyal to Rose, the middle aged woman having freed him from slavery as child.

His maroon hair stood out wild and spiky, his right eye replaced by a deep scar. Levy had never seen someone with quite that pointy ears, jutting out like those of elves would in the various fantasy stories she had read back in her home town.

The scholar's daughter found it easy to talk to him, his easy going way and rational reasoning going well with her own personality. He told her of the city they were headed toward, explaining that Iris used to be their strongest harbour town before they managed to reach all the way to Holly only five years ago.

Levy could easily make sense of his explanation with the memory of the large map that used to sit in the kitchen of her former home, knowing where the cities he spoke of were located and realising that it was a very important section of the coast that the Phantoms had attacked.

The three cities, Iris, Ilima and Mai were effectively lining the headland that limited the bay where Hargeon lay. The headland was even named Mai's Head since Mai sat right at it's tip. The other edge of the Akane Bay was already part of the neighbouring country Bosco and thus no land the Freeheart Bandits could make use of.

The Phantoms were no fools and knew they had no chance of holding the cities against their rivals. The large troop of Freehearts thus met little to no resistance as they retook Iris and Ilima.

The Phantoms had not murdered any significant portion of the population here, planning to utilise the manpower available for their own profit, but the Freehearts and everyone else that had fought were hanging from the city walls and the boats were gone, sent out toward Holly.

Luckily, the plan to steal the great ships was now doomed to fail, the captains surely not about to protest when they were welcomed in the southern city by Freehearts instead of Phantoms and the pesky men were removed from their decks.

After taking the dead down from the walls and giving them a proper burial, their caravan continued on toward the very tip of the cape, dismounting not far from the beautiful stone city.

The lilac Phantom's Eye was waving on black flags from atop the steady walls surrounding Mai, a row of archers standing atop the high construct, ready to rain fire and iron down over them should they approach.

“So this is where they make their stance? An ill informed choice”, Cobra smirked and Levy gave him a questioning look. “We have a back door here. There is a tunnel I doubt they know about”, the knight told her happily, rearranging the two swords at his belt in excitement.

“Build camp! This is now a siege!”, Jessalyn ordered loudly, her strong voice carrying across the entire caravan and the bandits beginning to unsaddle and raise tents.

“We're still going to camp here?”, Levy asked surprised. “Wear them out and make it look like we're at a loss”, Cobra said and Kageyama nodded in agreement. “The camp will make it look like we don't know what to do and forcing them to stand up there for a day or two will only profit our attack”, he elaborated for the young girl.

Levy looked toward the high walls and closed iron gate. To break through such a fortification head on, one would need catapults and rams, if that even would cause enough damage to the thick structure.

Curiosity flared in her, wanting to know what it would take. Damned be that she didn't have a library to retreat to and research this with books on construction and warfare. She would only need a few numbers and facts to calculate the needed force, the optimal projectiles and attack angle.

It was first two days later that the Freeheart bandits gathered to organise their attack. The front of carts, tents and temporary shelters they had set up in combination with the woods their camp was placed along gave more than enough cover to hinder Phantom Lord from seeing their movement.

Erigor and Kageyama stood tall by Jessalyn's side while she explained their tactic. Half the troops would stay and start readying for an assault, something that would look foolish but draw attention from the group heading further into the woods and to the tunnel that led into Mai from underground. Once inside, they would clear the wall and open the gates for the knights and other cavalry.

Sorting herself, Cobra and Kageyama among the half that would sneak into the harbour city, Jessalyn left command over the cavalry to Erigor, the loyal at once starting to sort the bandits and ready them for fight.

Levy found herself in the midst of shoving people, putting armour on and throwing weapons around, double and triple checking them. Feeling awfully in the way, she shied back toward the tent she had shared with Rose and her loyal, sitting down by the open flap of the large marine blue cloth shelter and watching everyone hurry to follow orders.

It was an uncomfortable feeling to be the only one not contributing, but there was little a small weak girl like her could do in this situation, so she just stayed out of the way, watching and listening as the Freehearts encouraged another and metal plates and chainmaille scrambled, horses neighing as they were disturbed to be reined and saddled.

Her black steed was not touched, fine a warhorse it may be. Kageyama had told her that the horse was hers now, every Freeheart owning their own, and she had been wondering what she should name the stallion.

What was a good name for a completely black, elegant and strong warhorse? She wanted something noble, but not too pompous, not like 'King' or 'Strike', but rather something a little more fitting like 'Midnight' or 'Shadow', but it was all a little generic for her taste.

A glance toward the city of Mai revealed that the commotion of the Freehearts' preparations were heard even across the field, more men joining those on the high stone walls and bows being picked up, quivers loaded and swords double checked.

The tension was almost touchable when the Freehearts lined up, banners stuck into the ground on either side of the cavalry troop as not to occupy any hands. Horses shifted back and forth in the rows, each carrying a heavily armoured and armed knight or a leather and chainmaille dressed archer or arbalist, all others sneaking through the underground tunnel.

The back door tunnel into Mai was a dark and claustrophobia inducing place, dug out from the stone plateau the city rested atop and reinforced with thick wooden beams that additionally reduced the space one had to walk through it, at times forcing one to crawl past.

The tiny space made it impossible to carry any proper light source while making one's way through it. Thus, the troop would crawl along the passage in complete darkness, only the first in line, Rose, carrying a small oil lamp to ensure they would not run head first into an obstacle or scrape their knees on sharp rocks.

The air was cold and moist, every sound echoing through the entirety of the long dirty passageway. The last section was laid out with dirt to dampen the sounds of an approach before finally the tunnel led up into the cellar of the great trading post.

Once inside the hidden room, torches were lit to ease the strain on the soldiers' eyes when breaking out into daylight. One wall section of this room was built in brick, not properly fastened in order to ease demolition and make it possible for the troops to exit the hidden cellar.

Beyond it lay the broad hallway and stone steps that lead up and into the city itself, the trading post close to the gates for practical reasons. And from here would the Freeheart Bandits storm the wall and gain control over the gates to once more wind their heavy old mechanism.

Levy stood by the outermost row of tents and shelters and watched, waiting with the riders for the first sign of Jessalyn and the others inside the city.

How many would fall on each side? How much Phantom and how much Freeheart blood would run along the paves streets? Levy was positive the proud women and their loyals would win, their advantage considerable, but there would surely be looses as well, just as there had been in Aster.

Even in Ilima, where the Phantoms fled head over heels, had one Freeheart given her life, an iron arrowhead catching her right side and throwing her from her horse to bleed onto the streets. After a local healer made the call, Jessalyn had soothed the injured woman and then slit her throat with her own dagger, giving her a quicker death without the pain of the punctured organs failing first.

It took more than an hour of stare down between the archers of Phantom Lord and the cavalry of the Freeheart Bandits before the battle of Mai truly began, calls heard from inside the city and the men standing atop the walls turning to shoot their arrows and bolts into the city below instead.

The most skilled archers among the waiting cavalry loosened arrows toward the men that had dared turn their backs on them, catching them by surprise a second time and easing the fight for their comrades in the city below.

An archer was a person of incredible skill and discipline, trained from a young age to always hit his mark. They were an elite of the highest order, not to be compared with even the best arbalists, no one able to hit over as great distances with a crossbow.

While the velocity of a bolt was far higher and thus its curve of flight wasn't affected by wind or rain as much, an arbalist was merely a sword fighter or rogue that needed a ranged weapon, not someone raised with the weapon in hand, and this gap in training was something seemingly impossible to overcome.

Crossbows strong and yet fine enough for battle were simply still too new of an invention. The new arbalests were heavy but powerful crossbows and their use was quickly spreading among the swordsmen of Fiore.

Not thirty years ago no one would have called himself an arbalist or, as it were, crossbowman. The older models were too slow to load and too weak. Specialising in their use would have done no one any good. Perhaps, if the design was further improved, a new generation of arbalists would rise and put all archers to shame with the strong steel prod no human hand could hold taunt.

The heavy weapons were held tight, bolt loaded, as the Freehearts stood ready, only waiting for their signal, for the gates to move. Hands clenched around hilts and reins nervously, all heads turned to the city attentively.

When the first Freeheart heads appeared among the tumult atop the walls, the archers ceased fire once more not to hit their own and Levy watched with the rest of the troops as their comrades pushed up the stairs and as soon as they had control over the gates started opening them, fighting to left and right in order to protect their surrounded position.

The cavalry set into motion at Erigor's call, reaching the gates galloping tantivy under minimal fire and storming the city in a loud roar of hooves and clinking metal.

The young scholar's daughter crept from between the barricades, her eyes fixed on the men and women covered in blood falling from the walls, screams echoing over the rooftops of Mai as the sun stood high in the sky.

 


	7. A Phantom's Demise

Levy listened for the sounds of the ongoing battle, waiting until she could make out no further clashes of sword and shield and no drum of arrows against armour made its way over the city walls to her. First then did she move, walking back to where her steed was fastened to a tree.

Heaving herself onto the bare back of her black stallion, she brought the horse around the encampment with but light nudges of her heels, the well trained steed following her as if they thought as one.

Riding closer to the red stained gates, she stroked over the short cut mane, soothing the horse in the face of the bodies littering the scenery. The warhorse seemed perfectly used to battle, not shying in the least as she had it trot past the corpses and to the wide open iron gates.

The deceased were dressed both in black painted and in polished, shining metal armour, black and brown leather. Both sides had experienced loss during this battle, but the further she rode, the fewer Freehearts were among the dead, a clear indication of how the fight went, the Phantoms staggered at the sudden attack and loosing moral, messing up as they were pushed back with no escape route.

She led the horse over the threshold between the city and the far simpler paved road outside, right where the gates had recently been shut tightly, the stones scratched deeply from its movement. Stopping under the great gates, she climbed up to stand on her steed's back and tugged the Phantom's Eye flag down from its hooks.

With the black cloth clutched in her hands, she rode toward the centre of Mai where the Freehearts had gathered. Hesitant glances were already being dared by the locals, peeking out from behind closed curtains as the roar of battle had quieted once more.

“This is a Freeheart city and such it will remain as long as any of us draw breath! Our fellow Freehearts and loyals gave their lives here today to show exactly that! No men shall ever steal this land, shall ever rule these free people by force! No bandit, be it Phantom or other, will find their way into these walls and walk back out alive!”, Jessalyn's proud voice echoed though the stone roads.

A loud roar of approval followed her speech, weapon hilts being banged against shields and spears being bashed against the ground to add volume to their bellow, the commotion their declaration of victory and last farewell celebration for their dead.

Levy followed the sounds and ended up in the central square of Mai where their leader just jumped down from a pile of crates. Jessalyn cleaned her short swords on a rag before sheathing them, the entirety of her far lighter than usual armour drenched in blood.

Face smudged with red and dirt, hair a mess and green eyes almost shining in the warm summer's sun, she looked so strong. Herself, the scholar's daughter was but a stick on legs, a short one at that.

She dismounted and stroked over the black steed's back calmingly, whispering, “Stay”, before walking toward the crowd of Freehearts. As she reached their gathering, she noticed they had not killed every foe this time, a group of approximately ten men sitting bound and lined up along the outer wall of a tavern.

Their heads were lowered, most beaten bloody and in a lot of pain. They were all young, twenty at most, and none looking like much but for their expensive robes. Among them was probably the leader of the now slaughtered Phantom troop and it was also most likely the reason they still lived.

On Jessalyn's signal, Erigor stepped up to the bound men, an intimidating sight his great armour. With one shining gauntlet, he forced each of the men to look up shortly so he could check if they had captured anyone of interest in the finely dressed group. The hope was, he would be able to make out who was the leader among them.

All did they avoid his hard black eyes, flinching in a mix of fear and pain at his firm grip. None resisted him, their heads falling back down to hide as soon as he let go. One man in their line looked right up at the Freeheart before the metal even touched his chin. “Him, we know”, Erigor said and Levy felt her heart constrict as she saw the battered man.

Sitting in bloody and ripped rich cloth sat no other than Owen, his pointy nose a dead giveaway even if he had been covered in another three layers of dirt. This man had killed Giles for no better reason than the baker's boy being too weak for physical labour after months of starvation caused by these same bandits.

She clenched her teeth as her feet brought her closer to the Phantom, her steps not truly conscious as the sound of Giles spine breaking under this man's blade resonated in her head once more.

His hateful, greedy black eyes wandered from the knight before him to the girl as she approached. Interpreting her stare as mockery when she stopped short of his reach, he spat, “What do you want you sickly runt?!” Levy balled her hands to fists at her sides.

A 'sickly runt', was that all Giles had been? After his families fight for survival, his fathers and bigger brothers' sacrifices to keep him alive, to give him some food even during the droughts worst phase, risking their own health rather than his? After the bakers boy had decided to stop and warn them instead of running by their farm, that was how he was to be remembered? It was most certainly not!

Anger boiled in her chest as she took another step closer to the man and hissed, “You killed my friend.” To think she would ever call the irritating baker's boy that, but it was true. While she had little love for him for inexplicable reasons, he had been one of the people of Aster, one friend at her side when it truly mattered.

“Get the fuck away from me you disgusting brat!”, Owen called, not eager to hear a small girl out in his defeat by Freeheart hand. He saw nothing more in her than a child frustrated by Phantom Lord's prosperity. Screw her and all these women.

“Back away you disgusting little whore! All of you fucking dirty whores and bastards, fuck the lot of you. I hope you all die. Burn under the Phantom's Eye!”, he rambled angrily, trashing in his bindings until Erigor warningly reached for the hilt of his broadsword.

Rose took notice of the tremble that went through the young girl's body at the Phantom's words. She appeared behind Levy and put a warm hand on the child's shoulder, trying to calm her, “Don't mind him. He will be dead within the hour either way.”

The scholar's daughter looked to her side to see the soft spoken woman give her a small smile, the scar on her forehead preventing her from raising her left eyebrow and giving the entire expression an odd but strangely kind looking angle.

“So, he is not needed?”, she asked and the redhead huffed a laugh. “Hardly. It's not like this guy will ever turn, fucking Phantom offspring”, she said, her deep disdain evident in her voice as she finished her sentence.

With that, the scholar's daughter grabbed a hold of the arbalist's longsword, pulling it from its scabbard and driving it through the Phantom's chest with all her might. She could see the moment of shock and utter disbelief in Owen's narrow black eyes as blood dribbled from his mouth, staining his thin lips.

Rose caught the little girl's hands and twisted the blade before pulling it back out, the Phantom's body falling forward and blood running between the stones of the paved street, trickling along the young girl's bare feet and painting them red

Rose turned the scholar's daughter around with a firm pull and stared back into her firm hazel eyes with shock. “Don't scare me like that Levy! You cannot handle a sword this heavy! Look at you, you're almost trembling from just standing up!”, she scolded loudly, the blunette not answering as she kept her rigid stance, but a few tears fighting their way form her eyes.

She had her revenge at least. If only she could have taken Laurence's life with her own hands as well, but the slender man was surely rotting away in the town hall of Aster as they spoke. Hopefully he had been hit by an arrow, bleeding out slowly while the others were killed around him. Hopefully he had to watch it in fear before he himself received the coup de grace.

Rose sighed and knelt down beside the blue haired girl. “Just what happened to you, Child?”, she wondered, stroking the tears off the girl's cheeks softly. Levy glanced over at Erigor, the knight shocked as well, standing stock still, eyes fixed on her.

The other bound Phantom men stared at her wide eyed, shrinking together more against the wall behind them as her hazel eyes found them. They saw nothing but the gaze of a crazed beast after her act, focused and calling for blood. They edged closer to another in fear of the inevitable fate that awaited them as well, death by a Freeheart blade.

Jessalyn strode over to Rose and Levy while most Freehearts still stared at the little girl in disbelief at her sudden first kill, the Phantom's Eye flag still clutched in her left hand slowly darkening around the edges where it absorbed the blood at her feet.

“Levy”, the leader addressed her and the scholar's daughter looked up to meet the green eyes of the blood covered woman. “Here”, Jessalyn simply said, holding a small dagger and sheath out for the girl. Levy was surprised, bewildered accepting the weapon.

“That, you should be able to handle a little better. Be aware that had not Rose taken control of you there, the blade would most likely have dropped to cut into your own leg once you pulled back. I want to see no such foolishness from you again, got it?”, the lilac haired woman explained in a firm voice and Levy nodded a little.

She was aware that her leader was right, that she could have seriously injured herself due to the hasty attack, and she was thankful for Rose's help preventing that, but she did not regret her action in the least as she bound the sheath to the leather belt of the olive tunic she still wore since leaving Aster.

Her clothes now too stained, she was gifted a more fitting brown tunic and a pair of equally brown riding trousers by one of the locals. The woman even apologised she had no boots in Levy's size to give. The blunette felt a little awkward as she ensured the far older woman that it was fine, that she appreciated the new clothes a lot.

Clearing the roads from corpses and giving their own dead a proper burial, the Freeheart Bandits left Mai the very next day. The blue Winged Heart flags with their red and white crest were once more waving proudly from the walls and rooftops of the city, biding them farewell as they headed home.

Rose had Levy ride with her and Jessalyn the front of the caravan, wanting to keep an eye on the young girl after her unexpected outburst of blood lust. Was it a sign of the will to fight or a sign of an unstable and damaged mind?

She truly hoped the girl would not feel the need for such actions again, having seen teenagers and young adults become twisted in the heat of battle, deeply enjoying the spill of blood and scream of pain.

She wondered just how a child that young could be driven to such acts. Just what had the Phantoms done to her? Or rather, what had they done to the other inhabitants of Aster, her family and friends, to feed such hatred in her little heart?

It saddened the redhead, recognising her own childhood far too well in the blue haired girl's behaviour. In her case, she long had no tears for any brothel owners, known or unknown.

It was first six years ago that she had learned that not every man that employed women was the kind that would abuse children or force the work on the women even when they were too exhausted, too sick or hurt.

There were a lot of men out there that would protect those in their care. Even a brothel owner could be a good person, giving those that have nothing else a job and making sure they were not beaten or mistreated by their clients.

She knew not if this was the kind of thing Levy had to learn or if she already knew, if this was a special kill. The girl had said something to the Phantom before his harsh verbal attack. Perhaps she knew exactly whom she had killed and why. All the redhead could do, was hope for it and observe.

 


	8. Blood Oath

The eastern coast reclaimed, the Freehearts were returning to Hargeon, their main base. It was a good position, trade from it made easy due to the town's placement right by the water's edge and due to the old broad roads of Crocus Rove that connected it to the capital.

The proximity to the border of Bosco also gave them a relatively free back in the direction of Akane Beach. The long open sand beach that lined the coast was cut in half by a river that went all the way to the northern side of Fiore and connected the Southern Bay of Seven to Akane Bay.

This enabled transport by boat up to the northern Waas Forest in a quarter of the time it took to round Fiore on the west side. The trading route had not really been used during the past years since the north was swarmed with rival bandits, Phantom Lord on the very top of the list.

Heading past farming villages, their caravan trotted along many slender dirt roads, following the small streams that cut through the fertile land between Mai's Head and Hargeon.

The drought was not half the problem here by the sea as it was further inland, the rivers having an eternal refill from the ocean. Water was easily transported onto the fields by long slim channels that the farmers had dug out or water fetched in large barrels that they carted back to fight the burning sun.

It was a beautiful sight and Levy was dreamily watching the rows of healthy crops, growing higher and stronger than any she'd ever seen on their old farm. The moist and slick earth was a true treat for the vegetation and even rice was farmed along the benches of the larger rivers, running down from the topmost fields down to the lowest before being forced back into its natural continuing stream.

The farmers and villagers greeted happily when they rode past, waving a flag if they had one, and the children ran beside their horses excitedly for a little while before they exited the village's proximity again.

Levy got a lot of looks from the older inhabitants, a thin looking thing like her riding on such a large horse on her own making for a very peculiar sight.

They were not two days from Mai when Rose perked up as she spotted someone across the open fields. “Do you see what I see?”, she asked happily, motioning to their left. Beyond the rich wheat field, a rider dressed in sparse black leather was just exiting one of the slim lines of trees that separated the various farming areas, warding them against the wind.

“My, if it isn't a Phantom”, Jessalyn smirked, at once motioning for an attack. At the wave of her hand, a group of Freehearts gathered around her, hands on their weapons and eyes fixed on the rider she had signalled toward.

The sole rider seemed to notice them in turn, urging his horse to a spurt back onto the concealed road as the tip of the Freeheart caravan left the line to hunt him. “Get him. Shot him down”, their leader ordered, motioning forward, and Rose and Cobra galloped after the Phantom, the redhead readying her crossbow mid dash.

As soon as she turned onto the obscured road, the skilled Freeheart arbalist let the bolt fly and the rest of them could hear the heavy fall before they even brought their horses around the corner to see the man lying on the ground.

He scrambled to stand, but his bleeding leg gave in and he fell down onto the dusty road again, the bolt lodged into his thigh causing him a lot of pain. He tried to pull it free, but had to turn his attention to the women approaching instead.

Jessalyn and five more riders trotted along the slim road with smiles on their faces, lazily encircling the seemingly unarmed man. Cobra laughed heartedly as the Phantom again tried to scramble up before giving up and staying on his knees in the dirt before the Freeheart bandits.

Levy closed in a little as well, curios about the man they had caught. When she stopped beside Rose and her loyal, she realised who the Phantom was. Between the tall horses sat the red eyed knight that had taken her from her family's farm, that had claimed her his property in order to save her from rape.

She had been sure he was dead already, that he had been in the town hall back in Aster and been slaughtered with the rest of his bandit troop. Spurring her horse on, she hurried to join the ring of Freehearts surrounding him.

Jessalyn dismounted and stepped up to the heavily pierced, wild looking man. “Where's your armour, Black Steel Gajeel?”, she mocked. “I ride quicker without it”, he answered and the heavily armoured woman smirked, “Attitude until the end, eh?”

“Not even riding armed, what do you think this is, Oak Town?”,she asked with a disapproving frown. “Should'a given me the time to pack one”, he responded and she chuckled a little, glad to hear they had scared the Phantoms enough to flee head over heels, not even grabbing their weapons.

“Any last word?”, she asked and he shook his head, his red eyes not leaving hers as she drew her sword, lifting it high over his head in a steady two handed grip, aiming for a clean decapitation. While she hated Phantoms with a passion, she wished no one a slow death.

“Don't kill him!”, Levy pleaded as she brought her horse to a stop and jumped down to hurry into the ring surrounding the Phantom knight. Jessalyn stopped mid movement, lowering her sword and frowning at the blue haired girl that interrupted this man's execution.

The young girl had herself killed a bound and defenceless man roughly three days ago and now she pleaded for the life of this man, know to them by name due to his frequent appearance among the front troops of Phantom Lord.

“He is a designated rider of Phantom Lord”, she told the girl. “I know, but please, don't kill him”, Levy requested. She was obviously very agitated, holding her hands against her chest in worry as she watched the lilac haired leader.

“Why not?”, Jessalyn questioned, curious just what this man was to the blunette. “He saved me”, Levy told her and she gave the red eyed Phantom a sceptical look. “This guy saved you?”, she asked in disbelief, motioning to him with the tip of her blade. “He did. Please”, the scholar's daughter nodded, tense as she stood among the strongest fighters she knew, asking of them to let a foe live.

Jessalyn stood quiet for a long moment, her green eyes on the injured man at her feet and those of her followers on her. She tried to evaluate what threat the man could be and weather it truly would ease the girls heart if he was spared. The blunette was a Freeheart after all and it was Jessalyn's duty to protect the members of her group.

“You”, she said firmly, pointing her blade at the wild man once more, “You have two options. Pledge your loyalty or die here.” “I will do whatever you say”, the defeated man answered at once. “Not me. That little girl is the one that saved you from the sword. You owe your life to her, not me. I myself would trim that worthless head of your shoulders without a second thought”, the woman scoffed.

The knight nodded and she pulled a small dagger from her belt, dropping it on the ground before him. It was identical Levy's own, the two blades forming a matching set when carried on either side of the same belt. The scholar's daughter let a hand feel over the leather sheath at her side while she watched the man reach for the second dagger.

Just as his fingers touched the black leather hilt, Jessalyn placed her heavy metal boot over his knuckles. “Don't think this makes you anything more than a disgusting rat in my eyes. Cross us and you will find no corner in this world remote enough to hide in”, she warned before lifting her foot to let him pick the small blade up.

The knight turned to Levy, staying on his knees in defeat, and asked, “What is your name?” “Eh, Levy Freeheart”, the young girl answered, a little overwhelmed by the situation. She hadn't planned to gain a loyal by this.

“I Gajeel Redfox, pledge my loyalty to you Levy Freeheart, until death takes me”, the knight said determined, clenching his left hand around the blade and pulling it from his palm, blood dripping onto the road from between his fingers.

“Good. Get rid of that obnoxious black leather. Also, you will be too slow on foot with that leg. Get back on your horse, Loyal”, Jessalyn ordered and took her dagger back, cleaning it on the firm brown cloth of the man's tunic before returning it to its sheath and turning, dissolving their ring.

Levy hesitantly inched closer to the bleeding man, so tall he matched her hight even while sitting on his knees in the dust. “Are you aright?”, she asked softly and he snorted in reply, grinning back at her with unnaturally sharp teeth as he sneered, “Seems the tables have turned on me, how freakin' pathetic.”

He tugged the bolt from his leg with a grunt of pain and forced himself up. Whistling after his horse, he managed to get the well trained white steed to trot over to him even after the scare of his fall and mounted with a little difficulty, clumsy due to his fresh injury.

“Come on already”, Rose called and the scholar's daughter took the reins of her black steed again, pulling herself up until she could place a foot on the high stirrup and swing onto the horse's back once more.

She wondered whether the man now riding behind her truly would keep his word, apparently fearing no wrath of deities nor spririts to ride with Phantom Lord and murder in their name. Maybe she really should just kill him instead. She had done it once and she had a blade of her own now, small, but deadly nonetheless.

He had given up and sworn his loyalty and even rid himself of the black leather armour without further argument, though. Could that be a statement strong enough to trust him?

Her thoughts keep looping as they continued onward, bringing her back to the memory of this man's saving words toward his comrade and to the fact that he was a Phantom himself, that he had been with Laurence in her home when her mother cried.

Arriving in an abandoned town, the caravan made rest. The empty wooden houses were most probably deserted when Phantom Lord approached Mai. Levy wondered just where the inhabitants were now.

Their land was safe again, but there was no way to tell them. It was sad, the simple dirt roads and numerous small homes ghostly quiet, spiders settling in the corners and weeds creeping onto the fields, mixing into the dry, untended crops.

It was odd how these plants could flourish even under the worst conditions. It was why her father and Father Ryder always had insisted that 'you weed' was not an insult, but rather a compliment on ones adaptive properties.

Finding a small one room hut by the outermost ring of buildings, Levy sat down on the dusty bed with a sigh, tired from the stirrup pressing against her bare feet and the constant ride. Her longest trip before this had been a mere day.

Her loyal looked around the small chamber sceptically, removing a few cobwebs with an irritated scoff, and Levy was again reminded of her numerous questions for the man. As more people led horses past the tiny cottage, the tall man closed the door and grimly looked back at the little girl that had saved him.

She was still as slim as when he had chased Laurence from her. The little food she'd been offered in her cell had been far from enough. He knew that, but there was little he could have done about it. She had not been of enough value to actually feed properly, only being a toy to play with for a while.

He couldn't even say why he had bothered to claim her his, having no interest in little girls as so many others seemed to have. Her cries had simply been too much to bear. He would blame it on the high pitched shrieks being too irritating if anyone ever asked.

Sighing, he walked further into the room, mildly surprised as the blue haired girl jumped up and drew her dagger, holding it out toward him with outstretched arm and quite obviously having no clue how to actually make use of it. He stopped nonetheless.

“Relax Tiny, I'm sworn to you now, remember?”, he said, raising a pierced eyebrow at her. “My mother was raped, wasn't she?”, Levy demanded “You shouldn't think about stuff like that”, the wild man tried to distract “Tell me! Did you do it?!”, the girl demanded and he felt his heart sink at her obvious hurt and anger. “No.”

“But Laurence did, didn't he?”, she asked, her thin arm swaying now. When he gave no answer, she screamed, “Didn't he?!” “Yea”, Gajeel admitted and Levy's hands trembled at the memory of the man that had forced her down on the sheets, had placed his legs over hers and freed himself with the intent take her after having raped and killed her mother three weeks earlier. She felt sick.

Gajeel took another step toward the girl and caught her hand, forcing the knife from it with ease. “You're gonna cut yerself”, he determined gruffly and set it aside on the bedside table. “I know how to handle a knife!”, the girl screamed enraged. “I can see that. You couldn't even keep hold of it for five minutes”, the man answered sarcastically, finding her wailing slightly irritating now.

“Fuck you!”, Levy spat and he huffed a laugh, “Gihi, got a foul little mouth, don't cha?” “Fuck you! Fuck you! Go die!”, the young girl screamed, hitting her small fists against his stomach, not thinking on just how easily he could snap her in half as grief took her heart and mind with the circumstances around her mother's death confirmed.

“Oy”, the man growled, taking a hold of her arms and forcing her back against the wall. “Calm the fuck down Shrimp”, he sneered. He feared that the others might take notice of her distress and think he did something to her. Or rather, that he did something to her here, today.

He was inclined to pin her kicking legs down as well but restrained himself. The scar on his left hand was a harsh reminder of the oath that was his lifeline, her very skin hurting to touch with the injured palm. If he was found not only holding her back but actually forcing her against the wall entirely, he was guaranteed dead, no matter what Levy said about it.

“You let him! He raped and killed her! Fuck you Gajeel! Fucking Phantom scum!”, the girl spat and his face fell into to an emotionless blank.

She was right.

He would most probably have been able to overpower and kill the man instead of letting it happen. The only explanation he could find for himself was that he had been so used to the cruelty and tears, that his morals had been dulled by Phantom Lord, but it was no excuse and he was not about to try and make one up for the girl whose family he had let die at his partner's hand.

“I'm sorry”, was all he could possibly tell her. He let go of the blue haired girl and she slid to the floor, curling into a ball and crying her heart out while her loyal watched awkwardly.

Once she seemed to calm down a little, he shook the dust from the sheets and picked the small bundle of tears up, placing her on the bed and pulling the large black coat she carried around over her as blanket, himself curling up on the cold ground.

He was the one that had forced her back to Aster, the one that had captured her and locked her into a room where Laurence had free access to her. He didn't even know if the time he had found the other Phantom in her room had been the first time. He hoped, but also strongly doubted it, knowing the twisted and perverted fantasies of the swordsman all too well after three moths at his side.

The other Phantom was dead now. It happened back in Iris. The Freehearts rode through the gates and most Phantoms fled, the two of them included. They had not been ordered to defend the city, and thus no one was eager to give his life in the effort to do so.

He had fled in a hurry with the rest, running toward the stables and grabbing the first best horse. The mare didn't even have reins or saddle. He had stolen a pair along the way later, trying to reach Crocus Rove to head up north, away from the Freehearts. Never had he thought that Mai would be defeated this quick. The Freehearts were truly scary.

When they rode from Iris, Laurence had been hit by a crossbow bolt before they even turned into the woods, falling off his horse. The second he tried to stand, he was caught by a Freeheart arrow, piercing his throat, the stone arrowhead packing enough punch to drive it all the way through his voice box.

The archers of this bandit group were incredibly skilled, one could not deny that. Their heavy iron and stone arrowheads were said to always hit their mark. Even their arbalists were skilled in the use of their weapon, a quite rare occurrence.

Gajeel knew the red haired woman that had shot him off his horse earlier this day by name. Rose Freeheart, 'hell's arbalist', according to the Phantoms and definitely living up to her reputation. She was always at the Freeheart leader's side.

It wasn't like Gajeel had any certain disdain for the women and loyals of the Freeheart Bandits, never having had much love for his comrades, forced into their midst from a young age, but he feared that neither Phantoms nor Freehearts would have any reason to let him live now, not having earned the trust of these women and no longer belonging to the cruel Phantoms' group, either.

He would truly have to follow the little girl he had hurt so bad and trust in her protection. All he could hope for was that the Freehearts were disciplined enough not to kill him despite his surrender. Among Phantoms, a Freeheart woman was sure to be killed by some idiot despite what any generals said.

It wasn't even the notion of being a loyal that gave him most grief as he heard the men and women settle around the small hut. The fact that he would have to face what he had done to this innocent little being every day for the rest of his life was what truly haunted him as he lay awake far into the night.

 


	9. Being a Loyal

Both Levy and her loyal woke to the call of Jessalyn, urging everyone to saddle up for the continued ride toward Hargeon.

Gajeel picked himself up off the hard wooden floor with a tired sight. Joints cracked loudly as he stretched and his left hand gave a jolt of pain as he flexed it. The injury on his leg at least seemed to have stopped complaining, only a dull soreness left.

With the Phantom's, a call like Jessalyn's gave one a maximum of thirty minutes to get ready, or else. Looking back at his liege, he suspected this was not quite the case here. The young girl rubbed her eyes tiredly, yawning, and slowly slid out of bed. The awkwardness from the evening before still hung in the air and he turned from the small blunette.

The girl folded her heavy black coat together in her lap again and he couldn't help but wonder what a tiny being like her wanted with such a large piece of clothing. Could it have been her fathers? The man had been strong, but not nearly that large, and a farmer surely wouldn't have kept something that fine during times of hunger and drought. It was very peculiar.

Levy got up and he followed her out of the small hut, limping to give his right leg the rest it badly needed. Making his way over to his sturdy white horse, he was glad the Freehearts hadn't touched the gentle being. Then again, it was probably only because the horse, thanks to his oath, pretty much belonged to Levy now.

He petted the mare, ruffled through her blond mane lovingly. No horse deserved to be subjected to the anger meant for its owner, something most humans didn't seem to agree with, especially not fighters.

Something tugged at his tunic and he looked down at Levy with a bewildered frown before realising she was holding a bowl of soup and a piece bread out for him. “Uhm, thanks”, he mumbled, accepting the food and watching as she walked back to Rose, scrambling up on a large flat rock. There she ate with the arbalist and her maroon haired loyal.

The camp fires around the blue tents had kettles standing on the edges, the soup boiling in them and spreading a delicious scent of meat, onion and cabbage. The dried meat pieces softened a little by the warm broth were a luxury, truly.

Sitting down by his horse, the knight ate as well, not having tasted this good soup in ages. Phantom Lord too had a hard time feeding their troops this year, especially with all the defeats they had suffered. Freehearts constantly rode along the coast and other small groups fortified themselves in castles and villages all around the southern side of Fiore where the Phantom's Eye watched.

There had been talk of going back north to Oak Town instead, but it was no more than wishful thinking. The Phantom Lord would never accept to admit defeat in the lands he had raided in so successfully after the passing of the last king.

The man was a power crazed daemon, not caring about the lives of commoners or even those of his own troops. Everyone was a mere game piece on his chessboard, kept in place by fear of his most loyal followers. That pressure trickled down the ranks to every last member and captive, making sure no one dared act out.

If someone misbehaved, he was punished. If this punishment was not served, the one that should have dealt it out would become subject as well. It was cruel, but very effective. Only few chose to disobey, and those that did soon lost their lives. To think the bandits of Freeheart were this loyal even without any sort of threat.

Once the caravan was ready an hour later, they continued on toward the eastern harbour town. Gajeel himself had never been in Hargeon. He had only heard about it when overhearing the pointless bragging of Phantoms claiming they had been there, right under the Freehearts' noses. It was supposed to be beautiful, fish and clam plentiful and a green garden flowering in the city's mid.

Riding along behind the row of carriages, he noticed Levy giving her horse a tap and hurrying forward to talk with a slender black haired rogue. Relieved not to have her so close, he stayed in line. The moment of calm didn't last long as his behaviour was noticed by a certain woman, though.

Rose rode up to the Phantom and angrily scolded him for his disloyal behaviour, claiming one sworn to a Freeheart woman ought to show his resolve to protect his liege by riding by her side so he can throw himself into battle for her should she ever be threatened. Half the caravan must have heard her loud ramble and the Phantom's eyebrow twitched in irritation.

“I don't even have a sword”, he complained defensively and gained a murderous glare from the short haired redhead. “You might be granted one if you prove yourself worthy of carrying a weapon”, she hissed, making no attempt to hold the deep hatred she felt for him from her voice.

She couldn't understand why Levy had bothered to protect this Phantom. The galoot didn't even show her any gratitude for it, acting like he still was his own man. Had it been up to the arbalist, she would have decapitated the Phantom right here and now, with the same blade Levy had nicked from her belt to kill Owen. But she would not touch the loyal of a fellow before he betrayed them, showing his true colours and giving her a legitimate reason for the kill.

Not wanting to hear her nagging for a second longer, the knight spurred his horse on and stayed by his liege instead. The blunette didn't even seem to take any further notice of it as she happily talked with Kageyama. The only one riding close by that reacted to his presence was Cobra, the maroon haired swordsman giving him a hate filled glance before ignoring his existence.

Gajeel's resolve as loyal grew as he followed the little girl around for the next four days, her frail body giving him so much to regret. Slowly but surely it became more about helping her than simply his survival and the honour of keeping an oath. He was no man made for servitude, but he knew he owed it to this impressive little shrimp to at least try his best.

This girl had it in her to save his life even after he had captured and imprisoned her. There was no way to repay a debt this big, he knew that all too well, but he would do his best every day, would make sure her body recovered, that she gained weight and survived, that she was healthy and safe.

He folded his hands together and held them out for her to step onto for an easier drop from the high horseback and the little girl hesitated, watching him dumbfounded for a long moment. “What? Get down already”, the Phantom sneered and she jerked back, then quickly stepping onto his hand and taking a weak hold of his arm as she let herself drop down to the road.

She was so light, her foot so small, the skin hard and worn due to her lack of shoes, and his stomach again gave that distinct lurch of guilt. As soon as the little weight left his wrists, he turned and stomped over to his own steed to unsaddle.

Rose gave him a sceptical look as she led her horse past him, an inaudible warning not to mess this up. She would watch with hawk eyes and should he misstep, she would have his head. There was no trust to be expected from her and she made sure to remind him of it at every opportunity.

After tying his horse to a tree, Gajeel got to setting Levy's tent up one last time. Tomorrow, they would sleep in the housings of Hargeon, but for tonight, the small marine blue tent would have to do one more time. Cobra had thrown it at him the second evening, telling him that building shelter was a loyal's, not a Freeheart's job.

After an initial struggle with the sticks and cloth, Levy had carefully hinted him how to do it and with that only given the watching men and women the more reason to laugh at his failure. It had also enabled him to actually get the job done, though.

The girl was liked among the troops, apparently having gotten the fine black steed with reins and saddle from them when joining. The similarity of her dagger to that of Jessalyn's didn't go past him either and when, definitively only due to his presence, Rose no longer wanted to share her shelter with the girl, the blunette had gotten her own tent and felts as if that had been an obvious right.

After supper, he sat down in front of the tent flap again and closed his eyes. If only he had a sword at least, then he would have felt more like a guard and less like a dog, sitting outside his owner's tent, bound to an invisible chain that would strangle him if he moved too far away.

Luck was not on his side and it began to rain, the drops falling onto his face making it impossible to slip away into dreams of a better time, a better place and perhaps a comfortable bed and some warming company.

When the drops grew heavier and drummed against the tent cloth, Levy woke, listening to the pattering calmly as she rearranged the coat she used for pillow. There was a sneeze and she sat up a little, seeing the large Phantom's shadow through the front of her tent, sitting out in the rain and surely freezing.

She took a deep breath and then scrambled up from between the heavy grey felts, crawling to the flap and pulling it aside a little. Her loyal frowned back at her grimly. The red eyes on her were not half as scary with his wild mane hanging down sadly, reminding her a little of a cat that was forced to bathe.

“You can come in if you want”, she offered and the Phantom huffed, sneering, “I don't need yer pity, Shrimp.” Affronted by his dismissive attitude, the blue haired girl crossed her arms over her chest. “Get in here right now, Loyal”, she ordered sternly and he raised one pierced eyebrow at her in surprise.

“Geh, fine”, he finally sighed, climbing into the shelter after her. Levy handed him one of the felts and he wrapped it around himself, having to admit that it was very comfortable in contrast to the chilly air outside.

When the girl settled down again, she petted the spot beside herself to encourage him and he hesitantly lay down at her side.

Stretching his injured leg out, he held back the satisfied sigh it coaxed from his throat and kept his gaze glued to the blue cloth above them, the Winged Heart painted onto the outside casting a slight shadow in the light of the guards' fires around the camp.

It was so strange to sleep under this symbol about a week after running from it. He had always learned to fight anyone who dared carry this cordiform symbol, to force commoners to change from it and to burn the blue flags.

“Gajeel?” He turned to look at his liege, noticing a nervous tension in her. “How old are you?”, she asked and he once more looked away from her cute hazel eyes, shrugging, “I dunno.”

“You don't know?”, the blunette asked surprised. “They didn't exactly check my birth date when they took me, aright?”, Gajeel said irritably. “Something 'round twenty five or so”, he added in a mumble.

“That old?” The little girl sounded astounded. “Geh, what do I look like to you, Kiddo? What are you even? Thirteen?”, the knight grumbled irritably. “Eleven”, she told him and his eyes snapped back to her again.

He didn't even know how to react to that. She was so little, so young, and already knew the horrors of this world, knew them by his hand. He turned from her entirely and closed his eyes, trying to force the thought from his mind.

It wasn't too long before he heard the other's breathing even out and deepen, glancing back over his shoulder to confirm that she was sleeping before rolling over to lie back and aim to fall asleep as well.

While it wasn't a bed, the soft cloth really was far more comfortable than sitting outside and feeling every breeze. Uneasy dreams caught him, inspired by the drumming of rain and the guilt pressing his chest down like a menhir.

When he climbed out of the tent come morning, the camp was already busy. He tiredly made his way over to the closest gathering. The ground was already almost dry again due to the summer warmth. Picking up dried meat and water for himself and his liege, he returned to the small shelter and reached out to wake the girl.

Levy jerked to life as she felt someone's hand on her arm. Sitting up with a jolt, she felt for the dagger at her belt before realising just who it was that sat beside her. “Here”, Gajeel simply said and set the breakfast down before her, leaving the tent to sit outside it until she was ready to leave and he had to fold the temporary shelter down again.

The blunette blinked at the meat for a moment and then picked the first piece up. She took a bite, chewed and swallowed, before deciding that she wanted company and crawling outside. She sat down beside her loyal and noticed how he swiftly stole a glance before ignoring her.

Smiling a little, Levy for some inexplicable reason felt like she would be able to trust in him. She knew very well what Rose and the others thought of the Phantom, but he still seemed like a man of his word, an honourable knight that would never break an oath given with the spill of blood. There was surely a scar forming on his hand from the deep cut.

They made for an odd sight truly, eating in silence, her tiny frame beside his large one, far darker than her in both skin and hair colour, pierced and dangerous where he watched over her, the small and fragile scholar's daughter, starved and sad to look at.

At least she was starting to perk up again with the food she ate on the road and was properly washed once more. A comb would have been nice, her fingers not making for a very effective alternative as she pulled them though her tousled hair every morning. It had grown so long now, definitively not ending at her shoulders any more.

She had thought on cutting it with the dagger since it tickled her, but they were so close now, she would be able to hold out until she could get a proper haircut in Hargeon. If she could afford it, that was. She glanced down at the dagger again at the thought, but decided against it, hoping that there would be an opportunity.

Jessalyn's call brought her back from her thoughts, Gajeel at once on his feet and rolling the tent cloth together. Levy got up as well and handed their mugs back before getting her saddle.

The horse was far too high for her to reach up on its back, but there was always some kind of height she could stand on in order to saddle and rein the tall horse. It could be a rock, a fence, a crate, anything at all.

Looking around, she spotted a stump and led the steed toward it. She climbed up and made to heave the saddle up only to have it snatched from her hands. Gajeel took the heavy leather and set it onto her black stallion, tightening the strap around its belly.

“Don't go climbing and lifting heavy stuff, Shrimp, you're too tiny the way it is”, he gruffed, taking the reins from her hands and once the horse stood ready heaving her up onto its back before stomping toward his own mare.

Blinking after the man bewildered, Levy huffed a small laugh. He really wasn't all that bad, was he?

How did a man like him end up among Phantoms? He had said he was taken, but why had he become one of them? Was the other work he would have been forced to do so terrible that fighting for them was an understandable choice? She wondered as she watched him pet his white horse calmly, seemingly genuinely caring for it.

 

 


	10. Hargeon

It wasn't even dark yet when the Freeheart caravan rode through the wooden gates of Hargeon. The grooms at the stables got a lot of reinforcement from the local population this day, having to care for all the horses at once. The carts were unloaded by eager hands and Jessalyn led the troop further into the city, the inhabitants cheerfully greeting them back home as they passed by.

The roads were all laid out with square grey bricks, brought from the skilled stonecutters in the snowy valley north of Mt. Hakobe, perhaps a week and a half north of the harbour town. The fine roads ended a good hour past the city gates were they met the main road toward Crocus, built with bumpy cobbles many years ago.

Perhaps, had Crocus Rove been constructed today, the roads would have been laid out with smooth stone as well. It would make the journey to the flowering capital easier for cart and horse and, more importantly, remarkably reduce the estimated time for such a trip, making trade with the capital easier and quicker, but those were thoughts for a time of peace and prosperity, not one of bandits and hunger.

Levy gaped at the high half-timbered buildings. Cut stone or even red brick formed their base, sometimes reaching as far as to the second floor and first there giving over to wooden beams and painted walls. Fisher nets, old steering wheels and other ocean themed decorations hung from thick nails over the doors of the different housings and shops.

Never had she seen such fine craftsmanship on a large and functional thing as a house. In Aster, a house was considered something to simply live in, not to look at. Mai had been impressive too, but not half as pretty, simply built in stone for stability.

Heading across the main plaza, they reached an especially long and wide two story house. Jessalyn lead on inside, the doors wide open for them in greeting. It was at least as impressive from the inside as the outside, sturdy wood beams holding the high roof up and well polished wooden tables and cushioned chairs littering the downstairs bar.

Cobra came up to the small blunette and helpfully explained, “This is the largest inn in the city, The Hargeon Rest. As Freeheart you can stay here while in Hargeon, eating for free and claiming a room upstairs.” “What you do with your lapdog is your own decision”, he added, giving the wild man a disapproving glare before returning to Rose's side where she spoke with Jessalyn and the inn owner.

The man standing behind the counter was a round figure of average height. His puffy cheeks only further enforced the kind look on his face, bright blue eyes shining with joy and his semi-short blond hair falling in his face as he nodded and bowed furiously while he listened to the Freeheart leader's words. Jessalyn handed the polite man a heavy bag of coins and he smiled broadly.

Gajeel watched the exchange with interest, having heard rumours about the Freeheart Bandits actually paying the people they protect instead of the other way around, but not having believed it before now. It was absurd. Every other reputable bandit group was cashing in from the towns they occupied.

It did however explain why they were so popular that the locals would fight for their right to paint the Winged Heart onto their flags. Perhaps that was the entire idea. They bought the townspeople's loyalty and that way kept their land. The only question was, where would they get that much money from? Did their raids really yearn that much? What were they raiding, nobles?

“How the hell do you have the money to pay the commoners?”, he finally asked and Levy repeated what Father Ryder had taught her, “It's trading money.”

“The Freeheart Bandits trade for others. Instead of dealing with the problem of protecting trading caravans between the towns, they do it themselves, then paying the goods they traded out when they return, keeping a portion to themselves, as any trader would. It's how we got salt and pepper to Aster for the past two years.”

“That's actually clever”, the knight mumbled in understanding and she smiled, his curious expression almost a little cute. When the red eyes found hers she quickly avoided his gaze again, heading over to the counter instead to get them a room as Cobra had said they would be granted.

When she asked for a room, the inn owner gasped in shock. “You're but bone, Little Girl”, he said in horror and Jessalyn sniggered at the reaction to their newest member. “Don't let her fool you. Levy is a tough little survivor”, she smiled.

“We found her in a Phantom base, locked up and starved. She even took a Phantom as loyal, can you believe that?”, she added as explanation and the round man gave Gajeel an apprehensive look. Returning his gaze to the girl, he smiled and instantly shuffled into the back, scrambling around and coming back only moments later with a plate of greasy meat.

“You need to eat”, he declared, setting the plate down on the broad wooden counter with a loud clink. Levy stared at the by far too large portion in shock, pretty sure she hadn't ever met someone that would take this size of serving.

“I can't possibly eat that much”, she pointed out. “But the man behind you can surely finish any scraps”, the inn owner said cheerfully and she glanced back at the wild man, his expression that of irritation as he once more was treated as dog, offered the scraps of his master's meal.

“Now, sit and eat”, the round man insisted, pointing at the barstool before her and then tapping his hand against the countertop impatiently. Levy sighed and gave in, climbing onto the high wooden chair and starting to eat.

It was a delicious treat, that had been evident from the sight and smell alone, but it was also far too much and too fat for her small stomach. She was soon pushing a not even half finished meal toward her loyal.

Giving a small growl, he made short work of the remaining meat while Levy again tried to ask the inn owner for a key. The man now actually listened to her and handed her a key, a small and smooth worked wooden plaque attached to it telling the room number.

She walked up the creaking stairs with her loyal at her heel. Finding the room at the end of the corridor, she opened the door to inspect her new stay. It was small, but comfortable, definitively more luxurious than a tent.

The bed was small, but looked incredibly cosy to the girl after two and a half weeks on the road. Sure, they had stayed in a barn, a stable and a small hut one night each in between, but this was a freshly made, soft and warm bed, cushion, proper blanket and all.

Otherwise, the interior was sparse. A small dresser in oak stood to one side, a ceramic bowl and metal water jug for washing atop it, just so a bit too high up for her. She hung the mayor's coat on a hook by the door and walked over to the window.

Glancing out, she saw the ocean beyond the rooftops of the city, stone piers sticking out far into the water and creating a small artificial bay within the great Akane Bay. The smaller fishing boats were anchored close to town and the larger ships lay far out into the glimmering blue.

She beamed at the sight, only once having seen the ocean before joining the Freeheart Bandits. Her family had travelled down to Holly for a couple of days together with a large guarded trading caravan at one point.

It hadn't been quite as enchaining as this. The city of Holly was larger, but not as breathtakingly beautiful as Hargeon. The architecture here could almost compete for her attention with the blue waves rolling into shore.

While Jessalyn, Rose and the other Freehearts left with their loyals to travel all the way to Holly and back several times over, Levy, and thus even Gajeel, stayed in Hargeon, living on the upper floor of The Hargeon Rest.

Levy had her hair cut by a friend of the inn owner. When she appologised for not being able to pay for it, he waved it off with a slime, telling her it was fine because she as Freeheart was already paying them all with the trade they brought.

When the caravan came back, Rose brought her favourite blunette new boots, clothes and a coat more fitting for her size. She handed the child clothes for her loyal as well, with a snarled, “Only give them to him if he actually deserves them.”

It became a habit for her to seek the girl out and present her with something nice whenever they were in the harbour city for a week or two. She showed her care for the girl that way, so far away from her ward most of the time. Cobra and Kageyama too kept worrying about her, but they didn't make it quite as obvious.

The locals seemed to grow accustomed to having the girl around as well, all eyes no longer following her when she walked about the city with a large dangerous looking man as her only company.

As the months passed, Levy slowly gained weight again under the watchful and demanding eye of the inn owner, Ralph Whitetap. He always brought her far too large portions for every meal. She wasn't even sure if it was purely to overfeed her or if it was due to the fact that he didn't want to serve the Phantom directly. It mattered little to her as long as they both ate properly.

With her health, her drive and curiosity also refuelled and the blunette asked the kind inn owner if there was a library in this city. The more than astounded look she was awarded gave her great pride.

“You can read?”, Ralph asked amazed. “Yea. I'm a scholar's daughter”, the little girl nodded and he excitedly explained the way to the library, smiling broadly and waving his arms in his usual large gestures.

The look Gajeel gave her didn't go past the blue haired girl either, the knight shocked that an ordinary looking farmers daughter had such an education. She barely managed to repress her grin at that expression, his eyes wide in adorable curiosity again.

Stepping inside one of the three houses near the great park that held Hargeon's library, Levy had found her occupation. She dug through heaps and rows of books and indulged in the smell of paper, leather and ink. She felt over the heavy bound volumes with love, like a family member that had been lost for far too long, now cherished even more.

She read up on all the things she had been wondering during the past months. She read and drew sketches about her speculations concerning the gates and walls of Mai and the siege it would have required to break through had there not been a sneaky underground pathway into the city.

Her reading soon slipped into themes of strategy, further construction and then biology, trying to asses how much damage different attacks even made on an average human, how much armour helped and what medical treatment there was available.

Finding a book on war injuries, she calmed her own worry, stealing sneaky glances at her loyal when he undressed in the evenings to asses his scars. The injury on his left palm was not infected, the numerous scars on his arms all healed cleanly and the wound Rose had caused on his thigh healing up nicely as well. This man must have some sort of guardian angel.

It was a great relief to Levy to be able to sate her appetite for information once more, feeling alive again as she read and memorised. Her loyal mostly slept with his head resting on the table beside her, only in the afternoons leaving her alone for an hour or two to exercise.

Sometimes when he slept in the library, she had to wake him due to his snoring, but she felt so comfortable around him by now, they merely laughed about it. Or rather, she laughed and he sat quiet, blushing a little to have a child mock him for falling asleep during the day.

Summer ended quickly with this occupation, the trees and bushes of the large Hargeon Park first burning in the bright red and yellow of dying leaves and then shedding their coat.

The leaves gave the inhabitants of Hargeon a lot of grief after rain, slippery on the smooth stone roads. They had to regularly rake the leaves together and burn them or throw them into the woods beyond the city walls to avoid this.

During a small curious expedition around the high walls, Levy collected acorns and even Gajeel let himself be motivated to pick the nuts from the bushes around the city's fortifications as long as he was allowed to snack on the treats in the meantime.

When they returned, Ralph broke and roasted the nuts and they were thanked happily by all the cold fishermen and stevedores that came in the evening and had a taste, one even buying the Phantom a beer, which he gladly accepted.

When the scholar's daughter woke again, she noticed her loyal still sleeping tight beside her. Gajeel otherwise always woke before her. After enough complaining on her side, the wild man had accepted to sleep beside her on the bed. To her joy, he seemed to rest far better since.

She sat up a little and noticed just how cold it suddenly had gotten, the temperature in the room far lower than usual. Creeping out of bed, she walked toward the dresser. She stopped in her tracks and stared out the window as she spotted white flakes falling from the sky.

Excited, she hurried over to the window and looked out. She gaped in awe at the world, covered in a thick blanket of white. “Gajeel.” “Oy Gajeel!”, she called and the loyal woke with a start, looking around as if expecting an attack. “What is it?”, he slurred tiredly as he found no threat in the room.

“It's snowing outside”, Levy beamed. “Okay”, he frowned, not understanding how this was good news and definitively not able to comprehend how this was a reason to wake him. “Lets go!”, the blunette urged, dressing in a hurry.

Gajeel sighed deeply, but got up to follow his liege out. Passing Ralph without as much as a 'good morning' the girl skipped outside, looking around like she hadn't ever seen the city before, like every house, every brick, was completely new to her.

“Aren't you exited”, the Phantom muttered, pulling his coat around himself tighter, irritated at the cold weather. He hated winter, passionately, always had. It was a depressing and harsh season that only brought problems with it.

“I've never seen snow before”, Levy admitted and he chuckled, “Really?” “I only ever stayed in Aster. It's too far south for snow.”, the girl defended. “It's not that far away”, Gajeel said and she started explaining that the climate was quite different, even if it wasn't very far, the line over which snow would fall going between Iris and Ilima...

The knight smirked, bringing her out of her ramble as be bent down and picked a mass of snow up, red eyes fixed on the young girl. “What are you doing?”, she asked cautiously, not having seen this kind of mischief dance over his face before.

The man straightened his back once more and hurled the snow at her. Levy shrieked as the cold ran down her neck. Gajeel laughed heartedly at her reaction and failed to evade her counterattack, a snow fight between the two of them in full roar when Ralph stepped outside to look for them.

The inn owner scolded them for missing breakfast and sternly ordered them back inside. Aborting their quarrel, they obediently followed him into the bar and shook the snow off, first then realising how cold they had gotten from the short adventure and thanking Ralph as he served them warm soup in two bowls.

“I think this is the first time you've actually served me”, Gajeel said and the inn owner turned and strode away as if the Phantom hadn't as much as opened his mouth. “And I believe it is the first time I've actually heard you laugh”, Levy teased, the knight tensing and the blush on his cheeks deepening a little, now not only due to the cold weather any more.

“You're cute”, the blunette sniggered and he looked back at her wide eyed. “Cute?!”, he repeated startled and Levy burst out laughing, leaving him staring at her for a good five minutes before she calmed down enough to focus on her food instead.

The winter felt like an eternity, it being far too cold at the library where no fire could be risked and the buildings thus locked down for the time being.

Jessalyn and the rest of the Freeheart strength was back again, staying in the base during the coldest period and hunkering together around the large hearth in The Hargeon Rest. It was the annual winter rest, or the 'winter's wait' as it was called in this area. During these months no one was particularly eager to travel through the snow, be it Freeheart or other bandit.

While Levy was happily accepted into the ring of men and women, Gajeel was still a rat or worse in the eyes of the Freehearts and their loyals. Only the scholar's daughter herself and Ralph accepted him, even if the inn owner wouldn't ever admit his approval toward a Phantom.

It took a sharply formulated direct order from Jessalyn for them to even accept the man on the training range with them. The Freeheart leader stated that a loyal needs to practice in order to protect his liege effectively. “You like Levy, don't you? She needs her loyal to stay strong for her just as I do”, she had argued.

After that, he was not frozen out from practice any longer. His training was perhaps one of the most effective since the Freehearts and loyals gave it their all to bring him down for every sparing session, not hesitating to strike hard against him even if he was lying down.

He never had to fear he might loose his touch with the challenging circumstances of his training, and as long as Jessalyn was around, he knew the others would not take the opportunity to 'slip' and kill him.

 

 


	11. Until Death Takes Me

Spring let the entire city flourish until the summer once more dried the land out. The harbour town was not as greatly affected as the surrounding land due to a strong fishing culture and skilled weavers.

The Freehearts were once more in full roll with trading and patrolling, carrying the cloths inland. Hargeon also exported salt with their help, the coast outside the stone walls lined with the white crystals, laid out to dry the ocean water from them. Pepper was bought from Mai and wool strings from Iris.

Additional grain for the horses and cattle was brought to the area all the way from Crocus, the land around the flowering capital well nourished and watered by the numerous small streams coming down from the mountain range.

On request of the scholar's daughter, Gajeel accepted to ride out a bit with her on her thirteenth birthday. He picked a shabby sword from the training range and met her at the stables. Both had only seen their horses a few times since their arrival, checking that the grooms did their jobs, feeding and exercising the horses.

The stallion's mane had grown out, Levy having instructed them not to cut it. It wasn't like she would ride into battle herself and even if she ever should, she would not be in a position where the mane of her horse would make the difference, herself unable to use bow and arrow or crossbow and far too small to fit a knight's armour.

Saddling the black stallion and brown mare, they led the horses out through the gates before mounting them. Gajeel again held his hands together for Levy to get onto her horse with ease before himself swinging onto his steed's back.

Galloping along the dirt roads leading toward the border of Bosco, Levy shouted in joy, the Phantom at her heels smiling amused at her exhilaration. He sped his mount on a little and she took the challenge without a second thought, racing him to the edge of the forest where they reined the horses.

“Woah, woah Nyx”, Levy soothed. She had decided on the name only last week, having found an old novel about the spirits of day and night, Hemera and Nyx, daughter and mother in an eternal circle of rebirth.

Beaming at Gajeel, she asked, “What's your horse called?” “I don't really know. I took it in a hurry in Iris when Freehearts attacked”, he admitted. “How about Hemera?”, the girl suggested and he shrugged. “Then our horses are named after day and night, her mane so bright while my stallion is all black”, Levy said and he nodded a little, agreeing with her idea.

He stroked over the strong warhorse's side, mumbling, “Hemera, do you like that name?” He looked back at Levy and chuckled, “At least she doesn't hate it.” The girl laughed heartedly at the childish behaviour he had started showing around her as of lately. He seemed generally more relaxed.

Dismounting, they sat down in the grass, resting their backs against the large threes and watching the two horses feed and relax on the field, the reins stashed into their saddle pockets to give the animals more freedom, well trained enough to come at call.

“I wonder what happened to Sapphire”, Gajeel said absent-mindedly. “Sapphire?”, Levy asked and he explained, “My horse, the one I had up until Iris.” “Say, how did you even escape Aster?”, the girl wondered and he huffed a small laugh.

“I didn't. We left the evening before, just in time. As far as I know, everyone that wasn't sent to Iris died in that small town”, he told her, watching the leaves above them sway with the slight summer's breeze, almost constant here by the coast.

“Who else was sent to Iris?”, Levy asked, the wild man picking up on the tension in her voice at once and turning to her. Her hazel eyes were focused in the distance as she specified, “Was Laurence sent out?”

“He was, but he's is dead as well”, Gajeel told her, pretty sure that it would soothe her to hear it. “Are you sure?”, she questioned and he nodded. “He was caught by the Freeheart archers, an arrow right through the throat. There is no way he survived that. If they didn't ride up to him and cut him down, he bleed out.”

“Did you see it?”, the blunette asked, her head still turned away, but her gaze on him, glancing at him through the corners of her eyes so she could see his expression when he answered. “Yea. He was right behind me”, Gajeel ensured her.

When Levy let her gaze wander back to the grazing horses, he swallowed hard. “Can... can I ask you something, My Liege?”, he requested. Levy looked back at him in surprise, the man never having addressed her so formally before, always calling her 'Tiny' or 'Shrimp'.

She nodded a little and he cleared his throat before carefully asking, “Did Laurence ever visit you before that day I noticed it?”

It took the scholar's daughter a long moment to process his question and the underlying care it expressed. He truly had done that to protect her and not just to assert his own standing. He had been thinking on it, wondering and worrying. “No”, she answered and he exhaled in relief.

“He stole my first kiss, though”, she added and he mumbled a small, “Sorry.” “It's fine. He's dead, that's the thing that counts now”, the blunette said, shifting to lie down in the grass entirely, relaxing happily. The knowledge that Laurence really was dead was calming to her.

“To think you would ever wish someone dead with your cute innocent little mind”, Gajeel teased and her eyes again met his. She thought for a moment before asking, “What makes me seem so innocent? Is it because I'm so young?”

“Sure, and because you simply are that innocent”, the man determined, only having seen care in her during their time together. “I wouldn't say that”, Levy said thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”, Gajeel asked and she turned to him before speaking again.

“Owen, the guy that led you into Aster”, she began and he nodded, knowing the man well. The pointy nosed man had been his general for years. He was a skilled swordsman and very practical minded, cold blooded and only focused on wealth, every living thing a mere asset or liability.

“I killed him”, said Levy, gaining a shocked look from her loyal. “It was in Mai. He was defeated and bound. When he scoffed at me from that crooked disgusting mouth, I murdered him to take revenge for Giles, the boy you caught me with back on my family's farm”, she continued, his red eyes staying on her the entire time, bewilderment slowly replaced by understanding.

“Was that boy your brother?”, he asked and Levy shook her head. “He was the baker's youngest. I never liked him, but he was pure of heart and murdered without reason. I think he knew he would die and therefore spoke up against Owen, to make it short”, she said.

“Can I ask you something personal as well then?”, she finally asked and he nodded. “Why did you fight for Phantom Lord? Why did you join their ranks?”, Levy asked what she had wondered the entire time since she had heard he was taken away.

“I hardly had a choice. As long as they let me, I worked the stables or cleaned, but when Jose...” “Jose?”, Levy interrupted. “Jose Porla, the Phantom Lord”, Gajeel explained and she motioned him to continue.

“When he ordered a doubling of the fighting strength, I was forced into training. If I hadn't trained, I'd been beaten until I do or die. If I hadn't ridden into battle, I would have been killed during my retreat. If I hadn't brought the running children back, I'd been whipped the amount I didn't manage to catch.

I saw it happen once, a young boy that hadn't found the three children that ran away. It was only three raps, but he couldn't stand straight for weeks, skin falling from each hit.” His face contorted in disgust and sickness as the images came back to him.

“After that, I can't say. I was trusted among the troops, considered a true Phantom myself and no longer had any of the others looking over my shoulder. Perhaps I really am a simple beast to not use the opportunities and save the ones I could have. I could have let you run. I should have let you run, but I didn't.”

The wild man turned his head from her in shame, swallowing back tears. He had no right to cry for this. It was all his fault and he had to face it without coaxing any care from his victim. Hiding behind his long wild hair, he clenched his jaw.

When the girl's warm hands found his arm, he tensed even further. “Hey, it's aright to cry you know”, she said softly and his head snapped back to her in bewilderment, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He shook his head, hiding behind an arm as he couldn't hold his emotions back any longer.

Her soft caress travelled up his arms, stroking over his shoulders and then his head, soothing and comforting the man almost twice her size by petting him softly as he lost the fight against his own human compassion.

“I don't want any forgiveness”, he forced out, willing his voice to stay steady and almost managing it. “I don't have any to give”, Levy stated firmly and he looked back at the so incredibly adult little girl.

Her expression was sincere as she elaborated, “I will never forgive the death of my family and slaughter of my home town, but you were not the one who caused that. No one died by your hand in Aster. If you have other sins, they are not mine to forgive.”

“I could have prevented the death of both that bakers boy and your mother”, Gajeel argued. “Had you not been there, I would have been raped and probably killed as well, so you at least saved one person”, Levy said.

The knight took her small hands and held them against his forehead as he forced himself to breathe easy. “I Gajeel Redfox, pledge my loyalty to you, Levy Freeheart, until death takes me”, he said, looking back at the bewildered hazel eyes for a long moment before standing up.

“I said so already, I know, but this time I mean it, not just because it would save my life, but because I truly want to protect you, Levy”, he said before turning to her and offering her a hand to pull her up while adding, “Because you are just that precious and amazing.”

Levy smiled broadly at his cute declaration of affection, giving him a hug and feeling him tense in the caring embrace before letting go and ordering the dumbfounded loyal to get the horses and help her up on Nyx's back again.

It was a calm year for the two of them, riding out from time to time, watching summer pass and the trees again shedding their leaves before winter once more bedded the city in white sheets, even the water freezing along the shore during the coldest month.

Children were walking out on the ice and prodding with sticks for weak layers while mothers watched with worry. They let the children explore on their own as long as they did not venture too far out, everyone needing a little fun and adventure.

Gajeel strictly forbid Levy to go doing something that foolish. The Freeheart argued that he had no right to decide over her and the far taller man simply stated that he would defy his liege, tackle and tie her down, before he let her walk out onto the ice.

“Try me”, he warned in a low growl and the girl laughed happily, “Aright, okay, I get that you worry.” “That's not it. I just won't go fishing you out and if you drown, Rose will have my head”, the man defended irritably, but she could see past his mask with ease by now, teasing him with his cute confession from the early summer by reminding, “Until death takes me.”

When they returned to The Hargeon Rest, the Freehearts had returned, more numerous than ever as they gathered in the downstairs bar. Rose hugged the blunette happily while Gajeel walked over to the bar instead, not eager to endure her hateful glares and numerous insults again.

With the claiming of anther two cities and five towns, all surrounding villages automatically counted in, their land had gained another fifth in size this year. Their strength was now to be split into two caravans, travelling different routes to keep the land safe from any rival bandits attempting to step into their territory.

This was celebrated big in Ralph's establishment, the inn owner having to buy in extra beer from the restaurants around Hargeon after the first week to supply their binge drinking. Gajeel too allowed himself more than he usual.

Levy had a hard time leading him up the stairs in the evening as he swayed for every step. He reeked and the girl had a hard time falling asleep beside him this cold winter's night, his snoring stronger than ever.

Come morning she determined that he wasn't allowed to get drunk again, ever, and he laughed as she elaborated her decision. “You don't need to motivate any order, My Liege”, he cut her ramble off. “You would make for a terrible noble”, he teased in a toothy smirk before heading for the bathhouse to wash the alcohol stench off himself.

As he soaked in the warm water, he ran her irritated explanation through his head again, huffing a laugh. He was no better vassal himself, now was he? Getting drunk while his liege had no other guard to protect her during his intoxication was quite careless. Sure, they were among their own, but that was of little consequence for his oath.

He stayed away from the festive behaviour of the others after that, instead sitting by her side and watching as the sharp minded shrimp read. After talking to the librarian, young Levy had been trusted with access to the houses even during the winter. She would get the keys, slip into the cold chambers to leave a book and take one and then return the keys until next time.

This repeated itself every week, the blunette rereading every book several times, a behaviour Gajeel would never be able to wrap his head around. He had no idea that it was an old habit the scholar's daughter had gained when the library was a cart ride away and she had no horse of her own.

On the morning of darkest day, he woke to the young girl scrambling on the bed beside him and turned to her bewildered, sitting up as he saw the deep frown on her face. “What's going on? Are you feeling ill?”, he asked worriedly and she wordlessly shook her head.

The knight's eyes followed her gaze and he spotted blood on the sheets, exhaling in relief that there was nothing wrong with his liege. “Don't scare me like that”, he grumbled. “What are you so shocked for? It can hardly be the first time you've...”, he stopped in mid sentence, realising that yes, it had to be the first time, the girl never having bleed onto the sheets before.

“Oh shit, this is your menarche”, he sighed and she tensed even further. “You know what this is, right?”, Gajeel asked cautiously and she snapped, “Of course I know! I just... didn't think it would start now.” “When then? When you're fifteen?”, the knight mocked and she sneered at him.

“Calm down, it's not like anyone's going to marry you away now that you're a Freeheart bandit yourself”, he chuckled and the blue haired girl hissed between gritted teeth, “Like I don't know that.”

“Then what's the fuzz?”, he asked. “I don't know. How the hell am I supposed to walk around while bleeding like this?”, Levy asked defensively. “The hell do I know what you girls do with that. Ask Rose or something, but keep me outta' it. It's enough that I'll have to wash today”, the loyal sighed, gaining a shove from the girl and snorting a laughter as she pouted at him.

She kept her irritated expression for a full minute before breaking down and laughing with him.

Having a man as the first to know about her menarche was so incredibly weird to her. It was something intimate that the mother or otherwise a maid was to learn first. A father and any brothers would learn of it the following days but a male vassal would definitely be kept out of it. Now, that very vassal was the closest person she had.

 

 


	12. A Weak Claim

It was when the first green buds peeked out from between patches of melting snow that a sole rider from north passed the gates of Hargeon. This young man bore a message for Jessalyn Freeheart.

He came just in time, the bandit leader in already preparing for the year's first trading caravan to lave the city and move along the coast toward Holly. This message had her put the preparations on ice, instead calling a large meeting in the bar of The Hargeon Rest.

Levy stood among the curious bandits, wondering what it was that their leader had to tell them. What could be so important she wanted to share it with all? What would change their plans so drastically that she stopped all preparations for the caravan?

The curious silence was thick as the lilac haired woman entered. She strode over to the side and stepped up onto a sturdy table, claiming it as her podium. Her loyals stood beside, all five of them. Erigor, Kageyama, the knight Curtis Holt and even the two mysterious rogues. No one really knew who they were or what their job was, but they were there and they were trusted.

“Do we have a scribe here?”, Erigor asked loudly and Levy stepped forward, one hand up in the air.

While Jessalyn could read, she was slow at it and not about to stumble over the written words in front of all her followers. She motioned the girl up onto the table and the blunette climbed up to her.

Accepting the scroll that Jessalyn had received and clearing her throat, she began her first official reading. Had anyone told her a few years ago that it would be before the gathered Freehearts, loyals and locals of Hargeon, she would have thought them crazy.

  


> “Aimed for Lady Jessalyn Freeheart, Honourable Leader of the Freeheart Bandits of Hargeon.

> Honourable Lady Freeheart,

> As you know all too well, the country lies in chaos since our one true king, Toma E. Fiore, passed away fifteen years ago. The law is no more than a piece of paper littering in the archives below our capital and The Crown is but an empty name.

> I aim to change this situation by a drastic measure. In order to bring stability back to this once flourishing land, I aim to set a new man onto the throne, to crown a new king, as should have been done long ago.

> For this endeavour, I beg your assistance. Join us as the Freeheart Army and ride with us toward Crocus to once more bring life back into the halls of The Crown's castle, Mercurius. Once a new king wears the crown, any promises of repayment made will be honoured by our house. I personally vow this on my life and honour.

> Hoping for your speedy response,

> Makarov, Lord Dreyar, Master of the Fairy Tail Guards of Magnolia Town.”

  


Levy looked up at the green eyed leader, her gaze slowly wandering over the gathering before she asked, “What do you think? Shall we trust Fairy Tail to bring forth a great king? They are know to be good to their people and we have never aimed at their heads.”

“Why another king? We're doing aright on our own, are we not?”, Cobra questioned sceptically. “When was the last time you felt safe, truly safe, needing no sword at your side, no dagger under you pillow?”, Jessalyn returned the question.

Addressing all present, she raised her voice so it carried into the far corner of the bar. “It is as Lord Dreyar says, this land burns in chaos. Once, Fiore was a calm and safe country where the royal army hunted for those that plundered and raped for sport.

Yes, the law was flawed and the troops far too small. And yes, we are bandits that break those laws, defy The Crown and steal. But why did we do that? Was it purely to annoy the knights and guards, to oppress innocent farmers and fishermen, traumatise the noble lords and generals, drive the councilmen and high constable up the walls?

I did it because I believed in my mission, because I gave those not under the protection of the law a home, a life of their own, as safe and tranquil as possible. Children beaten in their homes, women raped, whores held and sold by greedy monsters hiding under the masks of men, it was my driving force.

Now, blood splashes against the walls of our cities, trickling down the streets our children play on with their bare feet. When was it last you felt secure on a trip along Crocus Rove, away from the eastern coast?

Do not the people deserve more than living behind high stone walls, not able to step out from their protective long shadows on their own? Do we not all deserve to live in peace, in prosperity? Should we not all be able to trade and travel freely?

If _we_ build the next kingdom, it will be stronger than ever before. Laws can be rewritten and rights restored. We, the Freehearts that know best what it is like to fall between the cracks, can with our own hands fill the gaps. I believe a new king is exactly what we need, for he is the law. What say you, Freehearts?!”

Her voice echoed through the wooden hall, every last woman and man listening attentively to her speech and finally roaring with her in agreement. “I say we ride out tomorrow. Everyone that wishes to can come with into Magnolia Town and hear with their own two ears what Fairy Tail have to offer.”

With that, the Freeheart Leader hopped from her table, ignoring the hand Erigor held out to steady her through the drop and muttering irritably about the Lord Dreyar addressing her as 'Lady'.

Stomping out, she made for the stables to get preparations into motion once more, now ordering very different items onto the carts. If this was to lead to a collaboration, they would ride out to take land, not to trade. The second caravan would have to deal with the trade instead, led on by her loyal, the cunning knight Curtis.

It was widely known that Jessalyn, and thus all Freeheart bandits, insisted they were just that, Freehearts that had loyals, not ladies that had vassals. Levy could see why, this distancing them from the nobles, but it made the whole addressing correctly ordeal a lot more complicated.

'Loyal', was to be used by a Freeheart woman to address her own or her comrades' loyals. “Free Loyal”, was to be used by any other person to address the men and 'My Liege' was to be used by loyals to address a Freeheart.

And this only covered the inner workings of the Freeheart Bandits.

There were the lords that ruled over cities, towns and villages as mayors, and the generals that ordered troops of their own, as Erigor did from time to time, all to be addressed as 'My Lord'. There were the Councilmen, to be addressed as 'Your Grace', and then the king, or rather the not currently existing king, to be addressed as 'Your Highness'.

It was pretty unfair that the women of nobility all simply gained the title of Lady, to be addresses as 'My Lady'. There was only one exception to this, the women of the crown family, the queen and princesses, to be addressed as 'Your Highness' just as their husbands, brothers and fathers. Levy figured this was due to their actual power in contrast to the noble ladies, only happening to be married to men in power.

The scholar's daughter crouched and slid down from the high oak table as well. She found back to her loyal in the exited mass and determined, “We're going with them.” Gajeel gave her a sceptical look but said nothing to it, heeding the implicit order and walking up the creaking stairs to pack.

The very next day, a large caravan headed up north to Magnolia Town. The small town was just shy of one day's ride from the ocean. It was also within close proximity to the great Akane Forest and thus arguably within the lands that the Freehearts had claimed in the past year, even if they had not been in the town itself.

The camp of blue cloth was set up on one of the flat hills lining the town, right by the waters of Sciliora. The large lake was providing all its surrounding towns, villages and fields with water, making for fertile land and rich forests.

Deep canals had been dug out in line with the streets of Magnolia Town and connected to the sweet water lake. Small boats went past calmly, men and women watching curiously as the long caravan settled, the first tents already standing while the end of the line still was in movement.

Levy helped her loyal set their spot up, tying their horses to a bolt she drove into the ground while he set the small blue tent up in line with the rest. Crawling into the shelter, he lay the felts out and stuffed the rest of their pack back into the leather saddlebags.

“When did you get all this?”, he sighed as he was finished. “Rose likes to give me presents and after I complained that I had enough clothes, she started bringing me this kind of gear”, the girl sniggered.

“Geh, women”, Gajeel hissed. He quickly looked around to make sure the hot-headed Freeheart arbalist hadn't heard him. Their small ridge tent was quite close to the commanding groups' large tunnel tents, too in the same marine blue cloth with the winged cordiform symbol painted on the sides in red and white.

Before the camp was even ready, a small group of riders trotted toward them from the town below. An orange flag with the white shadow of a fairy in its mid was held high in greeting as they approached.

Jessalyn stepped out of her tent and with Erigor and Rose at her sides awaited the small group in the very middle of their camp. She did not meet them on the edge as was traditional, wanting everyone to be able to follow what was said between the town lord and their leader. Every Freeheart was after all their own and had to make their own call on what to do with the situation.

Walking to the middle, Levy stood between the shelters with many other interested men and women. All eyes were watching the five horses arrive and the five local riders dismount.

A very small elder took the lead, only a half moon of white hair still on his head as he was growing bald. His face was decorated by a well grown thick moustache, something that created an odd contrast. The finely dressed man walked closer, his thick coat flowing behind him, white fur trimmings lining its neck and sleeves, the shoulders covered with yellow epaulettes.

“Lady Fr...”, he began, but the lilac haired woman raised a hand to silence him. “I am no lady, no noble. I am a bandit, a Freeheart”, she stated firmly and the short man nodded in understanding. “I apologise. Jessalyn Freeheart, I am glad you came”, he tried anew.

“Do not misunderstand, I have not agreed to anything as of yet”, the Freeheart leader clarified. “I first want to know who this new king is supposed to be. I'm not about to risk my life to promote a man I haven't even laid eyes upon”, she continued sternly.

Beside the elder, a tall, bulking man stepped forward. He was a little taller than Gajeel even, in only his clothes as broad as the black steel knight when wearing a full set of armour. His blond hair was cut practically short, a deep lighting bolt shaped scar going down his face on the right side. Orange eyes meet the Freeheart's green ones as he reached out to greet her.

Jessalyn raised an eyebrow at him, not lifting her arm to accept his gesture. The old Lord Dreyar explained, “This is Laxus Dreyar, my grandson. Due to a few generations old relation with the former crown family from his mothers side, he has some sort of legitimate claim.”

“Or rather, something that can be dressed as a claim”, Jessalyn said and he gave a small innocent shrug. “Very well. I will talk with you about this at least”, the Freeheart leader determined. She looked over to the last three riders and questioned, “Who are they?”

“They are my royal guard”, Laxus stated and the woman burst our laughing. “You sure sit on a high horse, Boy”, she barked amused, clapping the man towering two heads over her on the shoulder like a child.

“These are Erigor, one of my loyals, and Rose, effectively my second in command”, she introduced the two standing by her side before motioning the knight and Kageyama to bring them seating. A few crates were placed as table and chairs for them. Jessalyn and Rose took seat on one, and Makarov and Laxus Dreyar on the other side of the boxy table.

The Freeheart leader first stated her demands for any sort of cooperation. She was not aiming for any personal reward, but instead determined that the laws needed changing, making what she had done with her group legal but for the detail of their stealing.

She also demanded strengthening of the position of whores around the country, the women having little rights these days and a greater royal army that could handle even the pettier crimes around the country side. Farmers always had to wait longer for justice than the men living behind high walls even though they were far more exposed.

The Dreyar elder ensured her it was all plans they had themselves, wanting to build something better than what once was. It quickly became clear that he was the mind behind this entire thing, but Jessalyn before long turned her attention to Laxus, him being the one that was supposed to be crowned.

She questioned him hard to estimate his worth as leader and forced him to swear upon his life to follow a few guidelines. The only reason she did not demand he make a blood oath was Rose's voice of reason at her side, not quite as old fashioned as her older comrade.

Laxus was to listen to his advisers once he was crowned, was to not take any of the former councilmen back to his new table and was to never abuse the possibility of collecting taxes for personal gain. “Otherwise a Freeheart blade will find your throat, crown sitting in your hair or not”, the lilac haired woman warned firmly.

The young Dreyar affirmed that he would aim to do so, that he wanted Fiore to prosper not for his own gain, but for the people.

With these promises made, they finally turned their attention to the issue of going though with such and attempt. They had a crown family, the Dreyar family that had something that at least could be masked as a claim. They had an army, the Freeheart Army. They did however not have the support of the people.

If they simply rode into the capital and declared a new king, no one would acknowledge him, especially not with that kind of weak link to the former king. To build this support, they would slowly take more of the southern lands, riding under the Fairy Tail banner to spread the blonde's name as a new ruler, a man connected to the E. Fiore family that brought prosperity and safety where he went.

It could take years to bring enough men and women under their flags to actually claim the throne of Fiore and once more establish the country as one united kingdom, but that did not scare any of the parties, already having fought against the chaos left after Toma E. Fiore's death for a good fifteen years by now.

Jessalyn made it clear that any land falling under their flags in this attempt belonged to the Freeheart Bandits, now renamed to the Freeheart Army, until a king actually was crowned. She was not about to give a small group of guards as Fairy Tail that much power.

She told the Dreyar family of their progress over the last years. First, the claiming of the entire east coast and then the expansion of the Freeheart territory into the country, a now one to six days travel broad strip to be considered theirs. Jessalyn suggested they simply mix their troops and continue this expansion for now.

“It is how we heard of you La...”, Makarov began. Many pairs of eyes glared back at him and he changed his words mid sentence. “Ehrm, Freeheart. The neighbouring towns were decorated in your blue and red flags and as I asked, I was told the Freeheart Bandits or Freeheart Army was taking land under their wing to protect and lead”, he explained.

“Solely protect. It was not my aim, but I could not stand by while the roads were a death trap and the commoners suffered from the stagnated trade. I led caravans along the coast and ended up becoming the leader of their guards as well, the cities decorating their walls with the Winged Heart flags”, Jessalyn said defensively.

“But enough of that. This will not be easy. We have to divide our troops with wit and make sure there is enough strength to protect cities while we ride on to the next ones. To leave only small portions for deterrence is not enough.

I made that mistake once and now have the blood of an entire town on my hands, plus numerous men and women in the cities of Iris, Ilima and Mai. I have kept the cities well armed since and now have one trading caravan and one caravan that expands the borders, namely, this one”, she continued.

She rested her head on a hand with a sigh as she remembered the slaughter of Aster. A few of her old friends had died in that once peaceful town. Her green eyes glanced over to Levy shortly and the scholar's daughter took her opportunity, walking closer to the table. The four leaders looked back at her curiosity as she approached.

“I just... I know it is a big step, but the river White Run would make a good line to defence”, she suggested. “White Run, eh?”, Laxus asked amused. It was a rather bold statement for such a little girl. It was bold to even come up to them like this in fact.

Jessalyn gave her an encouraging smile and she continued, “It is a fair piece of land to take, I know, but to my knowledge there is only one city. The South Top mountains take up half the land between Holly and White Run and the rest of the land is merely littered with small towns and villages.

If you make a big claim as you first act, the word will spread quicker than by just declaring the change in leadership in the cites along the coast. You ought to aim for a quick bump in fame to begin with or no one will acknowledge that it isn't simply the Freeheart Bandits acting.”

“Which City is by South Top?”, Rose frowned thoughtfully. “Mid Bugbane. It is right by the delta out to the Minstrel Channel, or rather slightly west of the channel, in the very middle of the Southern Line. It should be a strong defensive point once taken”, Levy said helpfully.

The two Dreyar men looked somewhat shocked, not because of the implication, but because she was such a well educated strategist at her age. “Who are you?”, Laxus asked and the blunette tensed a little. “I'm Levy Freeheart, a scholar's daughter, My Lord.”

“Very impressive. I do agree with the idea. It would be a hassle if no one notices the change”, Makarov said and Jessalyn nodded as well. “We aim for Mid Bugbane first then. From there, it will be easy to take the rest of the land east of White Run. If all goes well, we will expand past the first and all the way to the second arm of the river this year and send a clear message”, she determined.

 

 


	13. Long Ago

The Freeheart Bandits stayed by Magnolia Town for a while to sort the collaboration with Fairy Tail out, every day bringing discussions between the leaders. Since none of them had even met before, everything had to be discovered and decided from scratch. The training and positioning of their troops, how many should stay stationed where, but also the future of Fiore as whole.

They would sit in the centre of the blue camp and talk, a map spread out between them in case they needed it. Some listened with interest every single day while others just passed by, determined to follow their respective leader into battle like loyal soldiers when the time came, no questions asked.

The Fairy Tail Guards were up in the camp a lot, mingling with the women and their loyals, drinking and talking about everything and nothing. Bragging and singing, dancing and jesting, it was as lively between the tents as the tables of any bar would have been.

Cobra often left Rose's side when she sat down with Jessalyn and the two Dreyar men. Even Erigor left his liege alone during these seemingly endless talks. Little Levy was watching every day, listening to every word, completely taken in by the discussions and occasionally throwing a fact of geography onto the table. She really was a scholar herself, even if she was but thirteen years old.

The Phantom she had saved had seemed to have learned his place too, staying at her side but for practice. During the one and a half years she had lived with him in Hargeon, the youngest Freeheart had somehow managed to school the man. Such a fascinating girl. She would surely rise in rank once she grew older.

The three that the Dreyar family had declared Laxus's 'royal guard' seemed to take their role very seriously as well, always staying by the blonde's side, even if they looked to be badly bored.

Not just within the bandits group itself did everyone instantly take a liking to the little Freeheart blunette. After less than a week, she sat and laughed with the three Fairy Tail guards, the curvy archer Evergreen, the slender and colourful swordsman Freed Justine, surely from a foreign land to be wielding such a light blade, and especially the odd rogue Bickslow.

The rogue's face was always hidden behind a visor fastened to his black cloth hood by simple straps. Perhaps he sought to hide his identity with the mask, not ever taking it off. Or perhaps he just hid a scar under it, one too disturbing too look at, far worse than a simple missing eye or a patch of burned skin. It didn't seem like anyone knew, but the visor definitively had one effect, it made him look insane, creepy and twisted.

Levy didn't seem to mind in the least. Surely it was because the loyal at her side was at least as dark of a presence as any masked rouge could be. How she could feel safe around such people even though she had no combat training whatsoever herself, Cobra would never understand.

His eye turned back to Magnolia Town, looking over the small but fine town and its numerous channels and parks. The Fairy Tail castle from where Makarov ruled the town resided close to the cliff face above the sandy shores of Sciliora.

He could hear the waves of the sweet water lake roll up even with the commotion behind him. Rose had always said that he had exceptional hearing, but to him it was just natural, always having been able to distinguish between the finer hints of sound, even back in that tower.

Long ago was it that he sat in the stone cells of the Tower of Heaven, some crazed men having aimed to defy the gods by building a round staircase all the way into the heavens above to find and slaughter the deities of Earth Land.

They had forced men and women, elders and children even, to work on the construct, heaving heavy stones up the tall construct under the threat of torture or death, whips slashing in the air shapely whenever they dared slow down.

The royal army of Fiore had no right to take action against the builders of the tower, it being out on an island in the Akane Bay, far too close to the borders of Bosco. Taking action could have been seen as an act of war against the other nation. The neighbouring kingdom had no interest in stopping the construction, either, as the stone for it was bought from their mountains.

Jessalyn had not accepted it, bringing ships from Hargeon's harbour and heading out to the small disputed island. As always when the army shied, she took matters into her own hands, disregarding the law.

It had been the largest operation of the Freeheart Bandits at the time, over a hundred men and women storming the rocky landmass and cutting down every slaver they could find. It was far from enough to actually take them out, but the Freehearts managed to save more than half of the slaves that were kept underneath the structure before they had to give up on the attempt and retreat from the ungodly island.

He had been but a child at the time. He remembered the screaming and the clashes of weapons echoing through the tower all to well. What happened then has slipped his memory, but Rose took him back to the mainland on her ship.

She had tended to the injury that later cost him half his sight. Whether it had been caused by a weapon or a fall, he could not say, but thanks to the arbalist's quick action, he had been able to keep the eye for a good while, first three years ago having had to remove it entirely as it once more swelled.

No words could express his gratitude to his liege. He didn't hesitate to vow his life to her once he was strong enough to actually protect her. He had specialised on close combat in order to complement her skills as arbalist, making sure no one ever got close enough to strike her. He knew she was good with her sword as well, but as long as he was at her side, he hoped she would never have to draw it again. She should instead fight solely with the crossbow, her weapon of choice ever since the battle that had caused the gash on her forehead.

Close combat gave her chills after she had been so close do death, the blood dripping from her forehead blurring her vision and leaving her exposed to her foe. Erigor had been the one to save her from the rival bandit's blade. While they never spoke much, it was clear their bond was strong. Rose's skull had a small crack from the fight, but it didn't seem to affect her further now that the scar had healed out over it.

Cobra remembered well how he had heard the story the first time. It was after Rose had blanked out during a sparring match with him. He had hit her over the head with a wooden sword and she fell together entirely, shivering and curling together in panic. Him her swords arm, he could pay her back for the rescue from that island. She had saved him from his darkness and he would save her from her own.

The Tower of Heaven had been taken down by the hand of Fairy Tail years after the Freehearts' attack. It was a mystery how the relatively small group of guards had managed to do so. It mattered little to him if they possessed magic or simply had been granted an incredible stroke of luck as long as the tower was down and all those kept there were free once more.

His head snapped up as he heard a voice he wouldn't have ever believed to catch again. His eye searched the camp almost frantically as the sound of her soft voice closed in. For a second, he mistrusted his own ears, but there was no doubt it was her. There, emerging from the mass of bodies, she was.

Her beauty had only gained in the years that had passed since he last saw her. Her violet hair was well groomed and flowing free in the constant breeze that rolled in from the water. Donning a fine green tunic and clean white skirt, she looked simply stunning.

She seemed so happy now, laughing with the more lightly lilac haired woman at her side. There was a pair of spectacles sitting on the woman's nose and with them was a slender and elegant man, surely belonging to an artists family with his pompous high hat and curly brown hair, thick lenses covering his eyes as well. These were the friends she had made then?

“Kinana”, he all but breathed and the violet haired woman's dark green eyes found his, her expression that of surprise. Cobra took a step toward then. “I never thought I'd see you again”, he said in disbelief. She blinked at him bewildered, glancing to her friends shortly before hesitantly asking, “Do I know you, Free Loyal?”

The maroon haired man stopped dead, suddenly cold even in his thick coat and heavy mantle. Of course she wouldn't remember him. That was the whole idea, was it not? “Nevermind”, he mumbled and turned, quickly disappearing between the rows of tents. How foolish of him to even address her. It was so very long ago they had gone separate ways.

Returning to the main land with the Freeheart ships, they had lived in the safety of Hargeon, having no family to return to and not wishing for The Crown to take them into its care. Jessalyn had not stopped them, saying that everyone was their own, that even a child could decide his or her own fate if they were ready to fight for it.

It had been a good time for them, living in The Hargeon Rest and being fed by the kind inn owner Ralph, just as Levy had been this past year. He always did that, taking care of those that could not themselves pay for housing and food, especially if they were still too small to look over the counter by themselves. He was a truly kind man and it was why Jessalyn had chosen his inn to become their resting place, financing a new and far larger building in the very centre of Hargeon.

It was a warm summer's day that it had happened. Cobra and Kinana had been lying in the grass between the trees of what now was the Hargeon Park. It used to be a wild thicket that lay near the centre of the once so small fisher's town.

Through the grass and bushes, a small but highly venomous lilac snake had slithered close. When the violet haired girl moved, it struck, biting her neck and injecting its toxin into her small body. Cobra had scooped her up and run back to the inn as quickly as his feet would bear him.

He remembered little of the events of the following night himself, having repressed much of it in pure shock, but the snake was found and killed to ensure the safety of the inhabitants and the little green eyed girl, his best friend in the world, she survived thanks to the care of the old healer that used to live in the harbour town.

Her memory, though, was gone. Nothing before the bite had remained. She had to learn a second time how to walk, to talk, and she had no recollection of him or the terrible happenings in the Tower of Heaven.

Cobra had spoken of leaving, so she had no anchor by her side that could bring those horrific memories back. The healer had explained it was fully possible, depending on the intensity of the toxin and just how far it had reached into her brain.

It was a gift that she was allowed to live without those terrible happenings in her mind, no longer suffering nightmares and sudden panic attacks when reminded of the unholy eyes of their former owner that gleamed down the dark tower.

Young Kageyama and another of Jessalyn's older loyals had taken the girl away, into a town where she would have a family and all the care she needed to recover and learn to speak again. The boy instead stayed behind in Hargeon.

Cobra remembered how he had been sitting on the small wooden barricades that surrounded the young bandits controlled harbour town, watching the cart that carried his one friend away, the two of them never to meet again.

To think Kinana had ended up in Magnolia Town, under the protection of Fairy Tail. It was safe, he knew that, but it didn't feel that way in a town that had no walls, no large army, that lay so close to their borders, so close to the lands that rival bandits roamed.

He jerked in surprise as the young woman peeked around the corner, curiosity written on her face. “I'm sorry if I upset you, Free Loyal, but I cannot remember where we have met”, she apologised. “No, its fine”, the swordsman said, shaking his head a little.

Last they met, he had still had two eyes to take in her beautiful smile, but now only a two dimensional image of her soft expression was granted him.

“I'm sorry. I seem to have lost all memories at some point when I was a child. I was told it was a snake bite”, she explained herself. “I know. It's okay, really”, he nodded. He wanted to leave, but she spoke again before he could do so.

“I... this may sound odd, but is your name Cobra by any chance?”, she asked and he was sure his heart had skipped a beat, torn between happiness of hearing her lovely voice utter his name and the fear her memories might return. “Yes”, he replied truthfully and the lilac haired woman dared come a little closer, her green eyes taking his entire form in with interest.

“I sometimes have this odd dream where a boy named Cobra brings me back to our home. Lord Dreyar said it might be because that is what happened, that I somehow have that memory left. You were the one that saved me when the snake bit me all those years ago, were you not? Did we use to be close?”, she asked. “Something like that”, he answered vaguely, tense as he didn't want to cause her to remember too much.

“How are you?”, he asked instead and again that little smile danced across her face, tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Good. I can walk and talk properly again. I can't do much else, but I learned how to sew and stitch and Laki and Reedus take care of me. They are painters and incredibly skilled”, she answered happily.

“Say, won't you tell me what happened before that bite? Where did we live? It was not Magnolia Town, was it?” Kinana stopped herself from asking more as she saw the pained expression on the swordsman's face, his eye cast down to avoid her gaze.“Was it bad?”, she wondered and he averted his face completely. “I'm sorry. I can't tell you, I really cannot”, he apologised, his voice thick with regret.

The lilac haired woman hesitated a moment before reaching out, taking his shoulder and feeling the jerk of his body at the touch. She slipped before him, their faces close as they stood in a tiny walkway between large tents. “It's okay. I'm just glad I got to meet you. Just knowing that you have someone out there is comforting”, she smiled and he frowned down at the beautiful woman, unable to believe she did not hate him for his silence, for denying her all the answers about her heritage and former life.

He took her hands and held them against his forehead as a few tears made their way from his eye and down his cheek. “I am so sorry. I swear to you, I will bring peace back to this land, will make sure you live a good life, Kinana”, he vowed. “I shall wait for you then”, she said at once and he looked back at her bewildered. “What?”

“I know that, long ago, before that snake bite, I knew you. You seem to care and now you bring me this kind of promise. It means you will leave with the rest of the troops, does it not? I will wait for you to come back to me, Cobra, so return alive”, she smiled. The swordsman swallowed hard, nodding a little. “I will”, he promised, placing a kiss on her soft hands before letting go and disappearing deeper into the camp with long steps, the white coat swirling behind him proudly.

Kinana tried to find him again, but could not get a single glimpse of the maroon hair in the tumult of people for the entire remaining week. The troops left the small town then, riding out toward the north to take Mid Bugbane and start their struggle for the right of crowning a king.

There, on a tall, strong warhorse, she spotted him one last time, riding beside the second in command of the Freeheart Army, Rose Freeheart, the famous arbalist. Quickly, she pushed through the crowd and untied the slender green ribbon from her hair, taking his hand and giving it to him before his horse passed her by.

Cobra stared back at the woman that handed him her hair tie, clutching it tight in his hand, his eye on her all the way until they turned into the forest and she disappeared from view. He looked down at the green piece of cloth, neatly woven, the rim decorated with skilled white stitching.

'Not able to do much', how humble and foolish she was.

He tied the ribbon around his wrist, hiding it under his sleeve. First when he looked back up did he realise that Rose was smirking at him knowingly. “Does she remember?”, she asked. “No, luckily not”, he responded. He lifted his head toward the road ahead as to end their conversation.

  


 


	14. An Army Rides

The Freeheart Army regrouped in Hargeon after their meeting with Dreyar family. The Fairy Tail Guards joined them not a week later and together they embarked to Holly with the great ships travelling the west coast.

Gajeel had needed the entire day in Holly to recover from seasickness, his face almost green. He appeared to share this issue with one of the young Fairy Tail knights and even Laxus Dreyar himself. Levy couldn’t help but find it an adorable issue for such strong knights.

Jessalyn introduced the young Lord Dreyar to the mayor of Holly and made sure the orange flags were raised over the city wall before leading their caravan on past the large gates and toward the crooked road between the mountains of South Top and the Minstrel Channel. It was here that the neighbouring country was closest to Fire, a headland eternally stretching for the chaotic country.

Levy stayed close to the main group where Jessalyn, Rose and the Dreyar family rode close to the tip. She was far too curious about any potential discussion to allow her horse to trot along further back in the caravan. Gajeel was here as well, staying at her side despite Cobra's displeased glances.

At least the two Freeheart leaders had seemed to accept him on some level, simply ignoring his existence as long as they found no specific reason to scold him. The Fairy Tail Guards that rode with them didn't seem to understand what the fuzz was about, not minding the Phantom in the least. Perhaps they didn't know? It mattered little as long as Levy wanted him at her side.

It felt good to be out and about again after a year behind high walls. He had feared he would never get to leave Hargeon again, the scholar's daughter not having seemed like an adventurer at heart. The teenager had surprised him yet again, eager to be a part of the first step in this crusade.

According to her, it was only because her geography knowledge may come in handy, but Gajeel could see that it was curiosity that drove her. The same happiness sparkled in her eyes as when she explored a new topic in the dusty old library.

Bickslow was happily joking with the blunette during the ride, teasing her for having such a scary man at her side at her young age. He asked all about her former life, before the Freeheart Army. Where was she from? How did she end up here? What was her town like? What was life on a farm like? Gajeel growled at him for his disrespectful nosiness, but the scholar's daughter didn't mind, patiently answering all the rogue's questions.

She talked a lot about her home town and family, about the chicken she hatched in her pocket as the hen wouldn't accept the egg back, and the dog they once had. She spoke of the way you could hear the owls in the woods beyond the farmland and the cow she rode at the age of eight.

Gajeel too listened with interest as she talked. He hadn't asked much himself because he knew she had been trough more pain at her young age than there should ever be in someone's life. That did not mean he wasn't curious about it. How had Aster been before their arrival? It seemed like such a tranquil place, hidden in the forest just south of the great mountains of South Top which they now aimed to ride around.

The blunette was speaking of all the people that lived in the town, about the bakers family and the mayor. It was obvious she held him in high regards. Gajeel only knew him as a mauled bloody figure hanging from tick iron nails. Levy spoke of the way he always stood up for the other inhabitants of Aster and how he always helped out whenever possible, be it something lowly as cleaning a stable.

She didn't even notice how the entire tip of their caravan quieted to hear her tale, one of better times, of peace and a childhood without worry, without a care in the world. It was soothing to the men and women that had been through so many fights in the past years to relax into her world of flowering fields and happy feasts.

Even the Dreyar men seemed taken in by the pictures she painted for them with her words, their own memories and imagination her canvas and no two pictures quite the same.

Levy talked about the harvest festival that used to be held until the food became too sparse, celebrating the job well done and thanking the gods for the plentiful gifts of the earth. She spoke of Aster's Run, once flowing richly from the South Top mountains. By now, the drought of the past years had reduced it to a small and sad excuse of a river. Some of the elders had jokingly renamed it to 'Aster's Trickle'.

Bickslow laughed heartedly at that, almost sounding manic as he held his stomach. He was always like this, very energetic and loud, fun loving and yet creepy beyond anything Gajeel had ever seen. He wasn't scary, not giving hint of menace. He was just very creepy and weird.

The green haired man riding beside him was not very talkative in contrast. He seemed like a proud and duty bound man, his head held high as he watched over Laxus every minute of the day. Even if the blonde was but the grandson of a town's lord, the swordsman seemed to think the youngest Dreyar the only person worthy of his protection and attention. One could wonder why that was, what the blond man had done to gain his affections.

The woman riding by his side had a stern look, but seemed kind at heart as well. From the constant glances back and forth between her and another rider to judge, she was in some sort of relationship with the brute of a man, Elfman. The knight was a truly intimidating sight due to his pure mass.

He was riding on a very sturdy, tiny looking horse, one of the northern species that were utilised for the transport of heavy loads such as stone for construction work. They were strong as two warhorses, but not able to speed into any notable gallop with their short thick legs.

At the tip of the caravan rode a group of four close friends, all young, but apparently very strong. There were two male knights that constantly bickered and one female knight dressed in finest steel. It was well polished, a strong contrast to the men's battered metal. The two young men obviously didn't take care of their equipment all too well.

The fourth in their group was a blond woman. Lucy Heartfilia, a beast master, a very rare trait. Behind her steed followed a whole pack of large dogs, all trained to listen to her every call and motion. They kept their attention on her even as they strolled along the long road, tails wagging excitedly as they took in all the new smells of the unknown surroundings.

The busty blond woman had to have dedicated every minute of her day and night to the animals for years in order to gain their complete trust like this. She had to eat and sleep with them, never disregarding a complaint form them and always showing them that she cared for every last one.

Some of the animals looked like tame pets while others were very tall and muscular, sharp fangs able to rip through leather and strong jaws capable of crushing bones. Some were quick runners and other sturdy and stable.

A beast master was a strong asset in battle, the dogs able to run through thicket that men would have a hard time passing and able to track enemies down by their smell alone, often even through heavy rain and over long distances, no matter if their target walked or ran. It was important to give the animals a lot of love, though, and not may had it in them to properly take care of them all.

Gajeel remembered all to well how the beast master of Phantom Lord had been mauled by his own beasts, the dogs pulling him into pieces before the bandits could kill the rampaging animals off. It wasn't the beasts' fault, mid you, it was the beast master's, not paying his animals the attention he should have, not taking care of their injuries and worries. He had lost his respect for them and forgotten the fear of their fangs entirely, seeing them as simple and tame animals to be herded without a worry like sheep and cattle.

Gajeel had early on learned that one should keep constant vigilance around his pet or mount, since they still could hurt one after years of calm obedience. This applied to war trained beasts even more. If you cannot see the danger, you loose your respect and fear and thus become an easy target. The animals can tell when their master thinks himself invincible around them and the Phantom had to face the consequences of his foolishness.

The dogs had been used to hunt fleeing people down when the goal was simple annihilation of the targeted town. While Gajeel found it sad that the dogs were the ones that had to pay the price for their master's idiocy, he had also been glad that this cruel from of human hunting was at an end.

The blond Fairy Tail beast master didn't seem to care for the principle of constant vigilance in the least. She did not fear, but solely love the beasts. She cared so much, their bond became unbreakable. She trained them as if they were gentle beings and not viscous carnivores and born hunters. It was a fascinating sight, defying everything the loyal had learned during his childhood among the Phantoms.

The group of Fairy Tail Guards that had come with them was not awfully big, most staying behind to protect Magnolia Town and the surroundings under the command of Macao Conbolt, a man trusted by the master. Another few had stayed behind due to their families, like the archer Alzack Connell, the man not about to leave his wife and young child alone.

The well known archer Juvia Lockser was with them. The woman was able to compete with the Freeheart archers any day. She was taught from the age of three and, as Levy later learned, was the child of a Phantom. She was a Phantom offspring taken by The Crown when her farther was executed for his crimes.

Placed in Magnolia Town under the care of Master Makarov, she had continued her training and was now just as brilliant of a fighter as her father had always had hoped she would be. But she was on the very opposite side of the map.

She held no love for the Phantoms, having seen their cruelty herself when they raided a nearby village during her teens. The crying voices of innocent women and children and stench of corpses had her abandon any plans of joining the Phantoms later in life. Instead of stepping into her father's footsteps, she stayed in Fairy Tail, fighting bandits with guard group.

The two young swordsmen Jet and Droy were in the caravan as well, both instantly taken in by the little blue haired Freeheart girl. They rode close to her whenever they could. It annoyed Gajeel immensely, the two men far too pushy for his liking.

He was glad Rose often shooed the two off, saying they had no business riding at the tip. “Stay by the carts instead where you belong like real swordsmen”, she would hiss. He suspected it was mostly because their constant loud chatting annoyed her as well and not because they were of more use on the sidelines, but she would hardly admit to it if someone dared ask.

Levy seemed to find the two young men funny, so her loyal merely growled at them, not taking any action himself despite wanting to. She was his shrimp. They could go find another girl to stalk. This was probably the first time him and Rose could agree on something.

When the caravan passed Aster, Gajeel noticed his liege firmly keeping her eyes from the small road branching off into the woods of her home town. Rose saw this as well, but none of them spoke a word until the road lay behind them.

Their approach was loud as they entered new lands. Levy pointed the headland on the other side of the Minstrel Channel out for them across the water. It was faint, but visible. The small tip looked to be an island from here.

Finding a larger clearing, the caravan made to rest. Mid Bugbane was a mere four days away now. The camp of marine blue cloth was now dotted with orange tips, a highly unappealing combination in the Phantom's opinion. Then again, Levy looked really cute in orange with her blue hair, but that was hardly the same thing.

Shaking his head to get the foolish trail of thought out, he got to setting their own tent up as well, his liege taking care of their horses again. She had a hand for animals, having grown up on a farm, scholar status aside. When she looked back at him, he quickly averted his eyes, crawling into the tent to lay their resting space out before she could ask why he stared.

It was still early morning when Gajeel woke, his liege no longer at his side. Bewildered, he left the tent to spot a gathering in the centre of the encampment. He yawned as he slowly strode toward the commotion. Levy was surely there already to see what's going on. He pushed through the crowd and found the blunette standing with the leaders and Jessalyn's loyals.

Makarov had been visited by a spirit during the night. The Fairy Tail Guards' first master, Mavis Vermilion. She was long dead, but her spirit still resided in Earth Land, watching over her group of guards and occasionally speaking to the current master.

The great strategist had been famous across the entire country and Levy had read all about the battles she had lead. It was amazing what an eye for detail the woman had possessed, able to calculate enemy movements many steps beforehand if only she knew them well enough. It was a shame she died at such a young age.

During the night, she had warned Lord Dreyar not to ride for the great harbour city. The inhabitants would not let them enter, and even worse, would attack and drive them off with scorn. There would be loss and their caravan would be forced back to try again next year. It was a very bold claim, even for a spirit and Jessalyn didn't like the implication in the least. As if her soldiers would lose such a fight.

The people of Mid Bugbane had enough of all self-proclaimed lords and greedy men that rode in through the large gates only to take all that was not nailed down and leave again without a thought on manning the walls. They would first need to win the hearts of those living around the large southern city before they dared close in on its gates.

Jessalyn was sceptical, but Rose seemed able to convince her that a spirits word was to be believed. “The dead have a greater view of the world than any one man or woman could, no matter how educated, experienced and wise”, she told the leader calmly. The spirit of Mavis must surely know more about the city than them. They had only ever seen it on a map. They hadn't even heard the name before Levy had pointed it out.

Taking the land from the villages toward the city would take far longer than the other way around, but it was a safe bet. Riding for the city first, in contrast, was to be seen as a high risk after this warning.

Sighing dejected, the green eyed leader accepted the change of plans, redirecting their continued path with the help of Levy's geography knowledge and the words passed on from Mavis Vermilion by Master Makarov.

Their new route would take them almost all the way to the northern side of South Top, there riding across to White Run and then circling down toward Mid Bugbane. Hopefully, claiming the chunk of land in this semi-triangle would be enough to encourage the inhabitants of the large harbour city to reconsider and see the blond Dreyar's worth.

Not even having rounded the mountains yet, the army realised they would need to ride in proper formation. They quickly ran into a group of bandits and ended up in battle. It was a quick and easy fight, but had not Kageyama spotted them beforehand, it might not have ended as well.

Since they were aiming to send a message, Jessalyn had them hunt after the bandits for a bit, swords drawn. The rangers caught roughly half of the fleeing men before their group disappearedin the woods. Lucy let her beasts scare them even further away, the barking among the trees a very unnerving sound when already retreating in a spurt.

The rescue was welcomed, the inhabitants of the small village thanking them a thousand times and even sharing their local maps with the army so they may find all the smaller villages and new towns in the area.

Before continuing north, Jessalyn left them a Fairy Tail and a Freeheart flag to raise over their largest barn in warning for any roaming bandits. Attacking here would cost them their lives, for here, young Lord Dreyar ruled.

 


	15. Burning Homes

As the Freeheart Army rounded the mountains of South Top and headed toward the large river White Run, they encountered a flag that was uncomfortably familiar to them. The lilac Phantom's Eye waved over the assembly hall of the next town. To think the Phantom Lord's reach was this extensive even in the south. The world had gone mad.

Weapons at the ready, the caravan slowly closed in on the peaceful looking town, weary of any Phantoms still left between the wooden housings. To their great relief, they met no resistance, the bandits not currently present in their claimed land.

Jessalyn dismounted and motioned only Laxus to follow her. It was the blonde they wanted focus on, not his grandfather. The seasoned leader's far more experienced words would be bound to undermine his grandchild's.

Speaking with the mayor of the small town of Goldenseal, they managed to convince the townspeople to accept the Fairy Tail flag instead. It was a promise of protection and new trade. The little town would once more be connected to the rest of the coast and the inhabitants able to sell off their excess in exchange for items of use.

This repeated itself many times during their ride north toward the first arm of White Run, the settlements willingly switching to the orange flag. It didn't seem the Phantoms had changed their ways. Not one spoke up in their favour when the Freeheart Army arrived.

The mood was festive when the caravan turned down toward Mid Bugbane, finally riding upstream along water's edge. They now had a strong support and good chances of claiming the land theirs in a peaceful matter.

To rest by the water was a treat for the tired soldiers. Everyone took a long and much needed bath in the clear sun warmed water.

Levy happily dug her feet into the soft riverbed when she washed with the rest of the Freehearts and Fairy Tail women. The men simply had to wait until later. While there was nothing blocking their view, they were not allowed to get close before the members of the opposite sex had redressed. No one dared find out what would happen if the order was disobeyed.

“Why can't we just bathe together?”, one of the Fairy Tail Guards had complained. Natsu Dragneel was a young knight, spiky pink hair growing wild on his head. As soon as he had spoken, he was scolded by his comrade Lucy for being an ignorant pervert. She hissed that he knew not to respect a woman's boundaries. Levy couldn't help but wonder what the man had done to the beast master in the past to gain such an irritated and harsh reprimand. He must be rather innocent minded to even ask such a thing.

When the caravan reached the river bend that connected the first arm to the main river of White Run, they were met by very bad news. A local informed them that a Phantom Lord group moved within the land they were trying to claim.

This forced them to abandon the calming water and ride back into the semi-triangle between the mountains, coast and river to try and find and confront the bandits. They had promised the people their protection. Mid Bugbane would have to wait.

Almost in the middle of the slowly drying land did they finally find the black flags. A strenuous cat and mouse game was sparked in the clash of the two groups. The leader of the bandits was clever and knew the land far better than them, but did not posses the strength to meet them in the field.

Jessalyn knew this group far too well to think they would leave the lands. If they didn't keep the bandits on a run, they would find the time to attack one of the towns that had dared cross them by abandoning their flags. There were only two options, hunt them down or force them from these lands in a violent hunt.

In the effort to drive the Phantoms off, the Freeheart Army split up. The main caravan stayed and built camp in a long line to cut off their enemies' retreat toward south. In the meantime, troops just large enough to run a scare into the hundred heads strong bandit group chased them further up north.

The blue and orange camp followed whenever they had a good position to restrict the Phantoms' movements further. While Jessalyn was riding with the troops, Levy and Makarov made the calls to move camp, the blunette having read up on strategy and the elder having Mavis whisper in his ear.

The leader of the Phantom's group was definitely skilled as well, able to manoeuvre his group around them and drag the constant chasing out to sheer frustrating lengths. Jessalyn kept getting angrier for every time they escaped, spitting vile curses after the fleeing men.

Once they were close to Holly again, the caravan followed them and settled close to the foot of the mountains in order to secure the harbour city. Levy rode along the entire length of the camp to measure it. Comparing it to the map, she realised they had to choose between protecting Holly and preventing the bandits from riding back down toward the water further to the west.

She saw that Jessalyn was rigid in irritation, her jaw clenched as she cleaned her sword for far longer than reasonable, but decided this was important enough to disturb the leader. Choosing her words beforehand as not to make her interruption lengthy, she walked up to the lilac haired woman and told her about the situation.

“So, if the Phantom's notice the gap, they could slip right past and down south again, restarting this entire hunt”, she explained to the leader and the blond Dreyar that had joined them in curiosity. “Then this would take another three weeks”, the young lord sighed. That had the last string snap for Jessalyn. She slammed her hand down on the crate they used for table, the candle falling onto the ground and snuffing out. The blunette and all others nearby jerked back at the sudden outburst, watching her with wide eyes.

“This is it! We are hunting them down this time, without fail! Kageyama, Rose, Cobra, ride light! I want one troop of rangers ready to ride in an hour!”, she roared. She had enough of all this, forgetting all consideration for the soldiers. Glaring at the blonde, she ordered the man that now officially was her superior, “You stay here and make sure they do not fucking pass.”

The Freehearts followed her order at once, despite exhaustion from the day's work. Levy had never seen her this angry and the older members seemed a little worried. It was clear she rarely lost her cool. Once she did, no one dared talk back.

Gathering a troop of mostly archers and arbalists, but also swordsmen dressed in in simple leather armour, the riders mounted up. They were not worried about easing their defences with such light armour. After all, the Phantoms had not loosed a singe arrow or bolt toward them in the past months of this back and forth.

Taking only their weapons and leaving everything else behind in the camp, a hundred and fifty Fairy Tail Guards and Freehearts left. They rode hard, chasing the Phantoms to the point were they had to abandon their pack and truly flee for their lives. Jessalyn herself lead the attack, cutting the fleeing men off to the south west and forcing them up north in a shower of arrows.

Fear struck them as the tantivy of outnumbering hooves and barking of dogs gave no rest, for every patch of open field between the obscuring woods more of their comrades falling. Their number was reduced quickly at the hand of the Freeheart rangers and arrows of Juvia Lockser. The woman was well know among them for abandoning them after her father's death, himself having been one of the best archers of his time, a high ranking Phantom.

First when the remaining Phantoms were more than an hour past the northernmost Freeheart towns did Jessalyn motion their troop to a halt. Scaring the Phantoms further with a last shower of arrows and bolts, she turned their entire group around to return to camp in a cheerful mood.

They held their weapons high in victory when they returned and Laxus smiled a little, glad the drawn out delay was finally over, the mice plague dealt with. He would have ridden out himself, but Jessalyn had made it clear all knights were to remain in the camp, not being as quick as their comrades.

The entire evening was spent bragging of their hunt, exaggerating the scared looks on the Phantom's faces and singing happily in mockery of the fleeing bandits as they drank to the victory, sharing the rations the Phantoms had dropped to ease their retreat, packed with meat and bread.

Little did they know that the Phantoms were equally frustrated with the drawn out chase, riding hither and thither over the small patch of land, constantly keeping watch. They were enraged at their defeat and the loss of half their strength and sought but a last way to spit the Freehearts in the eye before leaving the lands south of White Run to report to their leaders with bowed heads.

Sending one rider to check if the coast was clear, they rode back and tossed their torches onto the dry fields of Goldenseal, setting them ablaze within seconds and doubling back with a cheer of revenge.

Panic caught the town as soon as the light of the dancing flames made it to the first house. The farmers and townspeople called out to another and grabbed all they could before the fire reached them. They packed food and any valuables they found into sacks. Women picked their children up, the smith carrying his elder on his back.

There was not nearly enough water to quench a fire of this magnitude, the land drying out as summer neared and a strong sun shone on them mercilessly during the days. Only one bucket could be fetched from the deep well at a time. Even the closest stream was too far away and too slim to give them any chance before the fire licked up the first houses, setting the hay roofs ablaze.

The horses staggered in fear and some ripped themselves free or jumped the fences before the townspeople could get to them and mount up. Freeing the cattle and carrying as much as they could of their belongings, the people of Goldenseal fled their homes.

Running from the quickly spreading fire toward the south, they soon encountered the Freeheart Army camp. For a second, the flickering lights scared them, but it was not the fire that had rounded them. This was the warm gleam of torches and fireplaces. Relieved to find the strength this close by, they sought shelter among the orange and blue tents.

They told the resting soldiers of the happening in a frantic ramble, worried the flames would catch up with them. Stressed children cried and scared animals had to be herded together in the encampment. Even after such a strenuous day, the soldiers could find no rest.

Jessalyn clenched her fist as she heard what the Phantoms hand done, cursing their graves profanely as she organised a few riders to keep an eye on the fire and report back as soon as it spread out any further.

During the almost completely wind still evening, she hoped they could leave it be. The men were tired and needed rest, but if the sparks jumped over to the woods, they would need to take action nonetheless. Every hand would be needed to shovel dirt until the fire was under control. Such a manoeuvre could take days. She really hated fire fighting.

Most of the townspeople seemed relieved as they were offered something warm to drink and a place at the tame fires. Jessalyn promised that they would be helped while the soldiers put felt blankets over their shoulders to soothe after the scare.

One firm looking bulky woman would not accept their care, though, angrily stomping up to the youngest Dreyar and his guards. The group was sitting tense on crates and felts in the middle of the camp and sipping at their wine in silence. The joyful mood had been torn from the entire army within minutes with the arrival of the fleeing people.

“Where is the protection you promised now, Dreyar?! Our homes are burning and you are sitting here, having a drink!”, the woman called, fighting the hands of her husband that tried to hold her back as she so brashly accused the blonde for the destruction of their town, insulted a man of nobility.

“Calm yourself. We will aim to drive Phantom Lord further back, but it takes time”, Jessalyn tried, but the grieving farmer's woman wouldn't hear her words. Not even her husbands worry or the town head's words of reason reached her in her fit of emotions.

“Further? Further?! You drove them right to us! How brilliant, yes, let them take the next villages, burn the next towns! Without you, it was far calmer here!”, she yelled and her husband was close to tears, afraid the blond man would kill her for the insolence.

Laxus just looked back at the woman wide eyed, unsure what to say to her anger. It was fairly understandable that she would be mad with him when she lost her home short after he promised his protection, but he felt that it was a bit unfair to blame them for the fire. They were definitely not the ones that had committed arson.

The farmer's husband let go of her now, trembling as he feared for their lives for the second time in one day. “Phantom Lord never attacked like that before you came here!”, she continued, taking a breath to keep going when Levy snapped, “What do you know?!”

All eyes turned to the little blue haired girl as she so boldly, some would say disrespectfully, countered the far older woman's words. Her hands were balled to fists at her sides as she firmly spoke, “Do you want your man to die? Do you want your daughters raped and sons enslaved? Phantom Lord are anything but calm. They plunder and slaughter.

They may have ridden past your homes a few times in the past, only taking your food and leaving their flag behind, but that was guaranteed not to last. Had it not been for the Dreyar family, you would be all on your own now, if you would even still be alive.”

She intentionally focused on the blond man as she spoke even though the feelings she conveyed only were true for the Freehearts and not the Fairy Tail Guards. It was after all him they were supposed to be following now, to promote among the people.

“They hunted the Phantoms around for over a month now, making sure they didn't find the time to attack you, to take everything from you and leave you bleeding, inside and out. Take my word for it, one that lost everything to the Phantoms, that once the food to steal becomes sparse, they would have lost interest in you and drawn their blades.

Even the priest of my little home town of Aster did they kill in cold blood on the very steps of our church. They murdered the children that were to weak for use, hunting every last elder down in the forests south of South Top.

Yes, just beyond these very mountains did they rape and kill, drenching the entire village in blood and stacking corpses in our town square. The mayor made for a brilliant trophy with his head set atop a spike!” Levy was breathing hard as she stopped her angry ramble, a hint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

She looked around at the men and women that had fled the burning town, meeting another adult's eyes for every word as she stomped her boot against the ground and loudly stated, “They do not leave anyone!”

The silence left after her words was long and thoughtful, the woman that had accused them falling to her knees to cry as she realised anger brought her nowhere. Jessalyn cleared her throat and looked to Laxus expectantly, the blond man standing up and turning to the gathering.

“I promise to do everything I can to take the land back from Phantom Lord. I am truly sorry for what happened to you, but it should also show you very clearly that these bandits cannot be allowed to continue. We have to stop them”, he declared and Jessalyn raised an arm, the Freeheart Army roaring their agreement, if so slightly forced.

Before the natural response was there, before they had actually managed something to celebrate, be proud for and build upon under this name, they would fake it. It was the only way to build trust for the bulking man, to make him seem powerful until he actually was on his own.

Levy turned and walked back toward her tent, the heavy footsteps of Gajeel behind her giving her some calm as she focused on regulating her breathing.

To think someone could accuse the ones coming to bring protection and trade for the misery oneself didn't lift a finger to prevent, allowing the black flags without a hint of scorn in their own town. It angered her so. Nothing did they know of the world and its harsh reality, of the death of family members, the cries of loved ones and terror of the Phantom's Eye.

She was shaking as she walked right past her tent and away from camp, only a few men and women standing here, flirting in whispers in the shadows of the encampment. Tonight none were happy and calm enough to sneak further away together, tough.

She picked her speed up and ran into the woods, catching herself against one of the large trees as her resolve crumbled and she cried aloud. Her loyal's arms came around her in a warm embrace, pulling her against him instead. His large rough hands ruffled through her hair soothingly as his deep voice rumbled against her ear, “They don't know.”

Gajeel could hear steps near them and turned his head to see the two Fairy Tail swordsmen Jet and Droy standing nearby hesitantly. He shook his head and they retreated back into the camp, leaving the girl alone with her loyal even through their curiosity and worry had them curl their toes. Just how could this little girl possibly bear such terrible memories? How would she manage not to break under their weight?

They had no idea that these memories were exactly what the teenager drew her strength from, what steeled her in the face of battle and blood. It was the hope for a better life that had her help the Dreyar family out in every way she could.

No one should have this kind of past and she was determined to make sure no one would ever have to again. It was therefore she followed Jessalyn, the leader holding the same hope and goal in her heart. Levy could tell, even if she didn't know just why the lilac haired woman dreamed the same dream.

 


	16. Mid Bugbane

After the fire of Goldenseal had died out, many came form the neighbouring towns and villages to help them rebuild. If there was anything positive to see in the entire ordeal, it was that the ground now was well fed and fertile. It would bring them a good harvest this year.

The Freeheart Army headed even further up north, making sure the Phantoms had fled entirely after their cowardly attack. They searched the entire area for a good two months, visiting as many villages and towns as possible on the way and reaching all the way up to the second arm of White Run before deciding that it was time to ride for Mid Bugbane. Enough time had been lost.

If not the numerous orange flags across the countryside were enough to gain the citizens' trust, they would have to renew their strategy entirely. No one wanted to start a fight, but they needed the large harbour city on their side, if not simply for the brilliant location then for the population density and reach of their boats.

The city had access to both the broad river and the ocean. The trade with Minstrel was at its strongest here, many speaking the neighbouring country's language or even originating from it themselves. While Holly lay right in the middle of the Minstrel Channel, no one spoke Minstreal in the smaller harbour city and no boats from the neighbouring country visited.

As the high walls of grey stone became visible in the distance, the Freeheart Army spread out, riding in a broad and loose formation, the warning of Mavis still clear in their minds even after all this time.

The structure was impressive, smooth cut stone rising as high as the walls of Mai. The clean build made it possible to create a far slimmer and thus less expensive fortification. The walls of Mai were a far more crude and uneven build, but Levy doubted the finer craftsmanship of this high barrier gave it any better defensive properties, quite the contrary.

It looked quite easy to lean ladders onto the structure or even climb it with a simple hook or just a pair of claws. The edges came in regular intervals and no outward jutting round boulders were in the way. The slate sides might make it a little easier to cast stones or pour boiling water and oil on the enemies below, though.

Pondering these things, Levy followed the caravan toward the large harbour city, her loyal the only one close by her side as everyone spread out to provide a harder target in the event that their approach was not welcomed.

Instead of a shower of arrows, they were greeted with opening gates and Jessalyn smiled broadly, waving an arm to drive them back together. They did not want to seem rude in the face of the city's hospitality after all.

The Freeheart Army stopped a fair bit outside the walls and Jessalyn and Laxus trotted to the gate with but the blonde's royal guard and Erigor behind them in order to speak with the lord that acted mayor in this stone and brick housing dominated city. The young and finely dressed man greeted them at the gates with little reinforcement himself.

“Welcome young Lord Dreyar”, he smiled, bowing his head ever so slightly. “Thank you. I am afraid I am not familiar with your name”, the blonde responded and the brown haired mayor introduced himself, “I am Cik, Lord Draepip of Mid Bugbane. You may call me Lord Pip, as most do. I am told my name is hard to pronounce.”

“Are you from Minstrel by any chance?”, Jessalyn asked, dismounting her horse unceremoniously. “That is right, Lady...?”, the man responded, offering his hand. “No lady. I'm Jessalyn Freeheart”, she said, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. The man seemed very surprised, having thought her the lady of the youngest Dreyar to be riding by his side as she did.

“I hope it is fine if we build our camp outside your walls. We have some business to discus with you”, the lilac haired woman continued and he nodded, “Yes, of course. I would invite you all in, but I fear that not even with every last room of our inns would we be able to house you.” “Give the signal to settle”, Jessalyn ordered and Erigor left her to yell through the rows of Freehearts and Fairy Tail Guards.

All were happy to get off their horses and stretch, walking around a little before slowly getting to building their camp anew. This time they would be able to rest for longer. The months of constant riding had been a strain, especially for the knights, the heavy armour far too warm in the burning summer sun that rose earlier and earlier every day.

With the main strength here for such a long time, they needed to make sure no one had caused any trouble back east and Jessalyn hoped the city of Mid Bugbane would help them out. He would surely see the opportunity for trade with the other harbour cities along Mai's Head.

“Would you prepare a ship to leave for Hargeon this evening? We need to get some of our strength back east”, the green eyed woman requested and the lord motioned one of the men standing at his side to get the preparations into motion at once.

“Lets speak tomorrow. I do think you know what we are after already, do you not?”, the Freeheart leader asked and Lord Pip nodded again. “I believe you seek to raise your flags over my city and take it, and with it the surrounding land, into your power”, he stated.

“Under our protection, to show that you support this man's claim to the throne and wish to trade with the eastern coast”, Jessalyn nodded before turning and pulling herself back onto her steed. She brought it around to join her bandits, or 'soldiers', as it was now. It would take her some time to get used to that.

Laxus looked to the slightly baffled city lord and gave him an innocent shrug before bringing his steed around as well, his guards following suit.

Jessalyn always said that he was supposed to be the one acting as their head, but then took over like this. Perhaps she had an issue with his style? She was always so brash, rude and direct, not even trying to small talk with the people she met. Not that he had anything against that, but was it really as effective when trying to make allies?

“You look thoughtful”, Evergreen commented and he looked back at the archer, thinking for another short moment before admitting, “I'm just wondering if I don't speak in the right way for a leader.” “You are a great leader”, Freed insisted at once and the blonde forced back an amused smirk. The swordsman was always quick to overestimate him.

He was strong and sure, but not necessarily the most sociable of men. He thought it to be a requirement for a good leader, though, and he had no idea how to improve on it actively. The large gathering of Freehearts that constantly surrounded him now did help, forcing him into contact with so many people every hour of the day. Hopefully it would be enough.

“Why don't you talk to Levy?”, Bickslow suggested. “Who?”, the blond lord asked and he laughed, “Gyha, that's bad Laxus. The girl that keeps helping you guys plan, the little blue haired scholar chick. She must know what a king is supposed to speak like, no?” “Perhaps”, Laxus shrugged. It seemed a little odd to seek counselling from a thirteen year old, but she really was a very smart girl. She was definitely the best scholar he had at hand.

By the slowly forming camp, Jessalyn just brought her horse to a stop beside the blunette and her Phantom rat for loyal. Gajeel was just opening their pack to get to his work of setting the youngest Freeheart's tent up again, something he would be able do in his sleep by now. Dismounting, she ordered, “Don't bother unpacking”, and he stopped in mid movement, looking between his liege and the Freeheart leader.

“What's going on?”, Levy asked and the lilac haired woman crouched down beside her, the longsword at her belt touching the ground as she stroked a strand of blue hair from the girl's face. “Levy, I want you to go back to Hargeon”, she said. “But why?”, the teenager asked bewildered, obviously not liking the idea in the least.

“Listen closely. You are incredibly smart and yet so young. You are destined for something great, I know it. If you ride with us here, for another few months stroking the villages and establishing new borders, it will be a complete waste of your skill. I want you to go back and keep studying”, Jessalyn explained softly.

Her green eyes looked up to Gajeel, at once harder again as she not even ordered, but simply stated, “You will teach her to make use of her weapon and yourself become stronger. This little girl is everything to you, you hear me? If she dies without you spilling your own guts in her defence beforehand, I will personally rectify that mistake.”

“But I don't want to go back”, Levy said quietly. The leader smiled at her. “I know you don't, but this is an order. Go back with the ship tonight and become even smarter so you can help us plan the next step, just as you did back in Magnolia Town. Tell Ralph I ordered you get room five.”

She clapped the girl on the shoulder and stood back up, turning and leaving them without another word. She was never one to stay and listen to any eventual backtalk. “Levy?”, the Phantom asked and she turned as well, stomping through the camp that slowly gained and toward the gates of Mid Bugbane.

A deep feeling of injustice flared in her. It was unfair. It made sense, sure, but it was just so freaking unfair! What had she ever done wrong? She wasn't in the way, was she? No, she was just too weak and tiny.

When the blond Dreyar and his guards met her halfway, she didn't even take notice that they stopped. The blonde had to call after her before she realised it, stopping as well and looking up at him in surprise. “What is it, My Lord?”, she wondered as the strong man elegantly swung himself off his saddle, his grand armour seemingly weighing nothing.

“Go on”, he scoffed to Bickslow and the creepy rogue sniggered knowingly, trotting after the other two royal guards toward the camp. Laxus waited until they were out of earshot before he turned back to the young scholar. It still felt weird, but he might as well ask.

“I have a question. How is a leader supposed to speak, to carry himself?”, he wondered and the blunette raised an eyebrow at him. She found it hard to see why the far older and more experienced man came to her with this. “What do you mean?”, she asked bewildered.

“Jessalyn is very direct and curt while my grandfather always talks around the bush for ages. Your leader also keeps taking the reins even after pushing me to lead, I don't really get it”, the blonde continued thoughtfully. He obviously didn't talk about this kind of thing with others very often, giving her such vague information even though he was seeking advise.

“Like what?”, she questioned. She noticed how he avoided her eyes, looking over to the gates as though there was something interesting to observe there and he was not just uncomfortable where he stood asking help from a young girl. “Like just now. She had me start the conversation with Lord Pip.”

“Lord Pip?”, the blunette snorted in amusement. “He said to call him so himself. Kick, Lord Driprip”, the blonde defended and she laughed aloud. She held her stomach as she tried to calm herself. It was incredibly rude, but having this tall and strong man struggle with the pronunciation of a Minstrel name was hilarious to her.

“Cik, Lord Draepip”, she said and the blond Lord simply sneered in answer. Levy was glad he didn't seem to actually be mad at her for the outburst. He was a little embarrassed if anything. “I'm sorry”, she apologised, straightening her back and looking to him expectantly.

“Any way. She took over pretty quickly after the introductions, almost ordering him to get a ship ready and deciding that we would discus this further tomorrow”, the blonde finished.

“I see. Well, she is not a leader in the same way a town lord or king is. She is more of a general, one that in this case is in the higher position. If you worry about not seeming very leader-like, just actively give her the word instead of letting her take it, like a king would when his high constable needs to discuss something with another lord”, Levy shrugged.

Laxus was amazed how this little gal really was able to help him with a few simple words of reason. She was a fascinating girl with a bright future ahead of her, that much was clear. It was all the more reason for him to keep his resolve and make sure Fiore was a stable country once more, so that brilliant minds like her could work in peace. It was a blessing that the hardships she had seen at her young age had not twisted her.

“If that is all, My Lord”, the teenager excused herself as her loyal arrived at her side with their horses. “Where are you going?”, young Lord Dreyar asked. “Jessalyn ordered me to leave for Hargeon”, the girl answered with a bitter undertone, her stride gaining again as she walked toward the city.

Irritation crept back to her quickly as the distraction was over. Wasn't she supposed to be free to do what she wanted now? She bit together and sat down by the pier with a huff, staring out toward the ship that was being prepared to carry the first goods and an amount of the Freeheart Army's strength back to Hargeon.

Gajeel sat down at her side with Nyx and Hemera's reins in hand. “She's right you know”, he tried, gaining a murderous glare from the teenager and instead electing to keep his quiet until they had to get aboard.

First in the evening, when the blunette was hanging over the railing lazily, watching the city lights disappear in the distance with a dejected expression, did he find it in himself to try and distract her again.

“What did Dreyar want from you?”, he asked. Levy thought it to be more respectful not to tell anyone about the king-to-be's insecurity, but she did tell him about his failed pronunciation. While Gajeel laughed heartedly at it, he was himself no better at trying to pronounce the city lord's entire name correctly. At least his tries seemed to amuse the teenager, a small smile finding its way onto her face again as the ship carried them east and his seasickness slowly built.

 


	17. Home Sweet Home

Despite not having wanted to leave the caravan and the exiting new city of Mid Bugbane, Levy was glad when they stepped onto the piers of Hargeon. Her loyal all but dragged himself ashore, lying over a crate and taking deep breaths for another half hour while the girl watched with a worried expression. She couldn't help but pity the scary Phantom a little for suffering such extreme seasickness. He had hurled over the railing right the first night of their journey.

Once he was back on his feet, she told him to go to the inn while she brought the horses into the stable at the gates. She was not about to entrust them to him in this state and insisted he needed to rest. Leading the two steeds along, she saw him staggering for the centre of the city.

The Grooms accepted Nyx and Hemera back into the stable with a warm smile. The teenager repeated her wish for them to leave the black stallion's mane intact again in case they had forgotten it in the time they were absent.

As soon as she stepped through the doors of The Hargeon Rest, Ralph stormed from behind the counter and hugged her tightly. The scholar's daughter could hear her joints crack in his suffocating embrace. “You're hurting me”, she managed breathlessly and he dropped her back onto the wooden flooring.

“I'm so glad you're fine! I was so worried, a little one like you going out adventuring like that!”, the round inn owner rambled excitedly. “Your dog is already upstairs. You must have done so very well for Jessalyn to give you a room on the left. I'm so proud. You have to tell me everything about it”, he continued as the blunette picked herself up off the ground to the amused chuckles of the men sitting around the tables of the downstairs bar.

“Right, but now I'm tired”, she tried to excuse herself. “Of course you are after such a long journey! Oh, how scary it was not to hear from you for so long. Come, you must be hungry”, Ralph beamed, shuffling into the kitchen before she could even defend herself.

Levy sighed and flopped down in a chair at the bar, waiting until the man came back with another of his ridiculous oversized servings. Tiredly, she at least ate some of the meat to show her good will, the overjoyed inn owner watching her with big round puppy eyes.

“Say, Ralph?”, Levy asked and he nodded a little, motioning his attention. “Why don't you simply serve Gajeel?”, the scholar's daughter asked and his expression pulled into a slightly disgruntled pout, defending, “He is a Phantom after all.”

“Was. He's my loyal now”, Levy argued, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head that reminded her, she too though of him as a Phantom, that she probably always would. He wasn't like the other Phantom's, though, a loyal at the same time. And she cared for him, all former occupations put aside.

“Well, I can still hardly be giving out food to his like on a regular basis”, Ralph waved it off, picking a mug up to unnecessarily scrub. It was his way of seeming busy when he didn't want to discuss the matter further.

Levy smiled a little, taking another few bites before again excusing herself and walking up the familiar creaking wood stairs. She was for a moment about to step toward the right before turning and walking to the room number five instead.

It was far larger than the small chamber she had occupied before, her loyal snoring on the bed and their bags sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. Gajeel must have dropped them and flopped down on the sheets in one go, having fallen asleep with his light leather armour still on.

Determining that he shouldn't be sleeping in it, and that, more importantly, she wanted some space as well, she shook the large man a little. As that didn't help, she hooked her foot under his leg that dangled off the bed, and tugged, the loyal waking with a start and almost falling.

Levy laughed heartedly before explaining herself to the disgruntled man. He was rubbing one large hand over his face as he looked ready to fall back asleep standing up, but she insisted he get the armour off before he did. He would rest better that way.

Lying down in the soft bed, the two slipped off into happy dreams within the minute.

Levy did as Jessalyn had told her to, studying again, reading and learning while Gajeel trained. It wasn't long before the Phantom brought the issue of her own training up, now insisting on teaching her as their leader had ordered.

She guessed his eagerness was mostly due to the green eyed woman's threat, but he really gave it his all, showing her how to handle not only a dagger, but all kinds of weaponry. He would steady her arms to correct her stance when she slouched and show her how to hold, block and swing, how to carry herself.

It was tough on the girl, most of the wooden training pieces no lighter than their iron counterparts. It was an intentional part of the design, making sure that the simulation of combat was realistic. Stones and bad old iron with jagged edges was set into the weapons for this purpose, but the wood was at least smooth enough to hold without worry.

In due time, she did manage to swing a short sword and prided herself to be able to defend herself with dagger and buckler. It was a sad excuse for an offensive, but she didn't exactly aim to become a soldier, so it hardly mattered.

The small sparing sessions with Gajeel were a lot of fun, even if he did win every single time. He insisted that going easy on her wouldn't teach her a thing, not that she had asked him to. It was surely how he was trained himself back in his childhood, in a yard overlooked by the Phantom's Eye.

When she asked about it, he proudly confirmed, “All these scars are from training. Not one has caught me since.” “Except Rose”, Levy corrected and he simply huffed in response, causing her to giggle a little. That all men had to brag this way. Then again, the women did it as well, there were just not as many female fighters, nationally speaking.

When the days became colder again, Levy brought her reading back into the warm inn instead of sitting in the library halls, sipping at a drink while she read and memorised. Gajeel had questioned the point of keeping 'all this stuff' in one's head, but Levy knew the value of knowledge on the move.

It wasn't like she remembered everything, far from, but she learned principles and memorised examples, mapping out tables in her head that she could use to calculate or at least estimate all kinds of things.

She knew how the clouds looked before rain or wind, how a ship was to be steered in theory, what construction forms were suitable for what areas and why, which plants were edible or poisonous, what animals to try and ease and which to flee from, all sorted into the shelves and scrolls of her brain.

She was interrupted in her trail of thoughts as a little girl peeked up at her curiously through brown eyes. She too had blue hair, dark blue, like the sky on a winter's night. The girl could be no more than eight years old.

“Hey”, Levy greeted and the younger blunette's face lit up, having been ignored by all the men sitting around the bar. “Hi. I'm Wendy Marvell”, she introduced herself to the scholar's daughter excitedly. “Levy Freeheart”, the Freeheart responded, watching as the girl scrambled up on a chair to join her.

She figured she herself would have been this happy to find someone to talk to hadn't she had Gajeel at her side during her first stay in this inn, the loyal constantly by her side.

“What are you doing?”, the girl wondered and Levy showed her the book she was reading. “What's it about?”, Wendy asked. “Herbs used for medicine”, the scholar's daughter answered, pointing to the drawings of sage leaves. The dark blue haired girl stood up on her chair, looking at the open page, interest sparkling in her eyes.

“Can you read it for me?”, she requested. “Why don't you read it yourself instead? I'll teach you”, Levy offered and Wendy nodded happily. Reading was a very impressive skill to posses. The scholar's daughter smiled and scooted closer, starting to explain the basic concept of it.

This was exactly how her father had begun to teach her, telling her to read herself instead of reading aloud for her, only ever watching, listening and correcting as the young girl struggled.

She was a little surprised that Wendy seemed so fascinated with this particular book, though, insisting on reading it through instead of switching to a fictional work as Levy had when she herself learned to read. It was first far later that she gained an interest in non-fiction works.

The girl learned quick, joining her every day in the bar, herself also living in The Hargeon Rest for the time being. When Levy asked Ralph about that, she was told that Wendy lived in the Fairy Tail castle, but had run away after the troops left, wanting to find her friends, Natsu and Lucy.

The scholar's daughter remembered the two well, Lucy Heartfilia, the blonde beast master with her countless well trained dogs and Natsu Dragneel, the pink haired knight that rode with her, a very childish and loud fellow. If she recalled correctly, the other two in their group of four had been called Gray Fullbuster and Erza Scarlet, a name very fitting for a woman with such bright scarlet hair.

To think a little girl would venture out on her own during times like these, knowing her friends were out to try and secure a stretch of land from plundering bandits. “How reckless”, she commented and the inn owner chuckled, “That's a child's free spirit for you.”

“I sent word to Magnolia Town and said she can stay here until the army returns and they seem fine with it. I figured I would spare myself the harsh words from Jessalyn. She would surely not approve if I were to force the girl to return, always so stern about own right”, he reassured her. “Probably not”, Levy agreed.

She herself could definitely see how a girl not even ten years of age could be told what to do in order to protect her and make sure she developed properly, but she too knew how firm Jessalyn was on her principles, even taking children in if they asked for it, like for instance, Levy herself.

Once one had taken on her command, she could order you around, but only as long as you wished to stay with her. Gajeel was quite the exception, forced to stay with them, to stay with her.

She kept teaching the younger girl and was amused as Wendy's interest stayed on the same theme, wanting to read about medicine in all of its forms. She tried to pick books that weren't too gory, but soon found the girl with a book on battle wounds and internal bleeding in hand and decided to leave it be.

If she truly wanted to become a healer, she would need to not only read explicit descriptions of wrecked guts and torn flesh, but see and touch it, tend to it with her own hands. Wendy did seem up for the challenge, starting to inspect her food whenever they had meat or fish, even following Ralph into the kitchen and watching as he rinsed the animals, poking liver and heart curiously as he pointed them out for her.

What Levy didn't notice was that Gajeel too listened with half an ear whenever she corrected the younger girl in her reading or explained a word that she didn't understand. The Phantom successfully hid his interest, resting his head on an arm as always.

He was a fighter, a knight, a man trained to ride into battle, not to sit and read. It was a little fascinating that the girls could gain so much knowledge from these simple ink stained pages, but it was not for him. He would keep his mind on protecting his liege instead.


	18. Winter's Wait

When the temperature dropped harshly near the year's end, the Freeheart Army returned to Hargeon for winter's wait. They left the city of Mid Bugbane without any additional protection after Lord Pip had insisted he had it under control and ensured he would side with them even without any Freehearts on his walls.

A lot of newcomers had joined after the claiming of Mid Bugbane. It was the first time men were allowed to ride with them without pleading their loyalty to one of the Freehearts. These, Jessalyn could see as soldiers, not loyals, but yet members.

Among the people that had joined were many poor farmers and eager young men, but also soldiers from the former royal army. Even Lahar, a well known former general, and his former second in command, Doranbolt, had come to Hargeon. The two of them once had control over the troops stationed in Mid Bugbane in the name of The Crown.

They were experienced fighters and leaders, a great asset to the growing army. Doranbolt had been the one to convince his friend to join. The man was born under the name Mest Gryder in Magnolia Town and was thus very fond of the Dreyar family. After the army had impressed so many by White Run, it had been an easy task to persuade the former general to place his trust in them as well.

Makarov returned to Magnolia Town with most of the Fairy Tail Guards for the winter, but Jessalyn insisted Laxus stay in Hargeon where the main part of his force was. “A good leader would not leave his army like that”, she had stated firmly.

With him stayed his royal guard and the strongest fighters of Fairy Tail, the knight Natsu Dragneel and his group, Juvia Lockser and a handful others. Jet and Droy stayed as well, because Hargeon was were Levy was.

Wendy was allowed to stay as well after the scholar's daughter told the master that the little girl's new goal was to become a healer. The elder seemed to respect that resolve, but did speak a harsh scolding before encouraging her to follow that path.

Not long after the old lord had left, snow once more covered the city streets. The bar of The Hargeon Rest was filled with people during the days, cuddling together around the fire to talk and enjoy the wait. No one as much as left the house if they could avoid it while the snow fell heavily outside the windows.

Most of them had a stay in Hargeon, but Jessalyn, Rose, their loyals and a lot of the newcomers stayed in the upstairs rooms. The lilac haired leader had explained that her stay at the inn was in order to be close to, and available for, her troops at all times.

“And because you don't need to lave the house but for training”, Rose teased. It gained her a playful shove that threw her off her chair and hearty laughter echoed through the hall.

Laxus seemed badly bored during the first weeks of the winter's rest, but once the soldiers had rested up and began singing and jesting though the long dark days, he enjoyed himself as well, his expression calm and eyes fixed on whomever stood on the tables and entertained.

Among the Freehearts were a few very talented people. It was a lot of fun to hear their tales or see them dance and joke around, but what truly sent chills up the blond man's spine was the song of the rogues of Mai.

The entire bar would quiet down to listen, and the blond man's orange eyes would close in bliss and his head tilt to get into the sweet spot of the sound. While the bar wasn't the optimal form of hall for the sound to truly unfold, the praise songs to the gods still caressed everyone's ears and heart.

In their hymn’s, the men and women mostly sung of the gods that watched over the oceans, the god and goddess of the water, Scorpio and Aquarius, and the fishermen's and docker's gods, Pisces.

Levy's father had belonged to the few that openly believed these alleged gods to be spirit like beings of some sort rather than deities. Herself, the blunette wasn't sure, but she also doubted that it mattered. As long as the relationship between the gods and humans stayed intact and the deities kept watching over them with their usual gentle care, their exact form did not matter.

As soon as the heavy downfall outside stopped, Jessalyn ordered the loyals to clear the training range from snow and after the one and a half month's long interruption made sure everyone trained again. She was as hard on them as ever, herself not seeming to feel the cold at all as she exercised.

The Fairy Tail Guards were more than unused to this kind of behaviour, shocked to be sent out for training during the coldest month of the year, all shaking so hard their armour clattered when they stood still.

There was only one among them that seemed immune to the freezing air, not even bothering to cover his hands or throat. He would stand in the cold calmly even before the armour was put on.

Gray Fullbuster was from the snowy mountains along Was Forest and accustomed to the cold. He instead hated the heat of the recent summers, feeling like he would melt away in the heavy armour during the days. Levy found it amusing how Juvia Lockser kept stalking the knight, seemingly shot in on him and him alone.

She herself found it hard to work out in the cold weather and sighed in relief when Gajeel pulled her against himself to warp his coat around them both once they were done, the warmth radiating off him comforting even if he was a little moist and sweaty.

The warm bath that followed practice was a blessing and she was happy to finally have some company for it again. During the time the Freeheart Army was gone, only Wendy had occasionally joined her, but now she could bathe and talk with all the other women again.

Gajeel was a little surprised to find the same thing. The Fairy Tail Guards happily talked to him, treating him like any other. He hadn't been talked to this way by anyone other than Levy for several years now. Even during the ride around the lands of White Run, he had been standing in her shadow the entire time. It was strange to try and socialise again. Strange, and very nice.

During the darkest day, the soldiers were in high spirits. The promise of the evenings feast was in their minds during practice. They worked hard, having a tournament of sparring matches to test another under Jessalyn's eagle eyes.

Everyone was forced to participate and after the first few rounds, only few were left. Gajeel got quite far but was ultimately defeated by the blond leader when they were pared up against another. The Dreyar was very well trained, strong and quick, his technique flawless.

Laxus, the two men of his royal guard, the knight Erza and Jessalyn's loyal knights Erigor and Curtis dominated the close range combat while Juvia, Rose and Evergreen had the by far highest skill in ranged combat.

Jessalyn soon declared Juvia the winner among the rangers before telling the close combat fighters that she would personally meet the one that won among them.

The newcomers that had joined the Freehearts just recently seemed very impressed, and a little bit intimidated, by the skill of their new comrades. Some wondered aloud how training among the Fairy Tail Guards usually went. At least the guards that had stayed in Hargeon were able to keep up with the hard working Freehearts any day.

The soldiers that had joined during the summer proudly told the newer members of the skill they had witnessed whenever they met bandits on the road in the White Run area. Happily, they talked about the small fights they had participated in themselves so far.

“I killed two bandits before even joining, defended my home town that way. When the army came by, I knew I should join. In Peony, we caught a whole group of bandits, cut their escape route off and killed them all. I myself took out five of them. Seven in total so far and only getting started”, a woman bragged cheerfully as they watched Bickslow and Curtis spar.

Levy could see the irritation on Jessalyn before she even opened her mouth. The green eyed woman stepped into the middle of the training range, drawing everyone's attention. “Halt!”, she ordered loudly and every single man and woman dropped what they were doing.

Bickslow and Curtis stopped their ongoing fight to listen as well. They noticed the irritated expression on the woman's face and tensed, wondering if they had done something wrong. Why would she interrupt their match like this?

“You”, Jessalyn said, pointing toward the loudest of the newcomers. “Y-yes?”, she asked worriedly. “Repeat what you said just now”, the leader ordered. “I just told my friend here how I killed five men in Peony and that it means I have killed seven in total”, the woman answered dutifully.

“Rose. How many have you killed?”, Jessalyn asked and the redhead shrugged, looking to her leader with a knowing smile. “Erigor? No?”, the green eyed woman asked and her loyal shook his head. “What about you, Rat?”, she asked and Gajeel's eyes went wide in surprise that she even addressed him at all.

“How many have you killed? I know the count is zero now, but before you joined, how many?”, the leader elaborated and he could practically feel the bewildered looks of those that didn't know about his time in Phantom Lord. He bit back any scorn and answered, “I have no idea.”

Once they found out, he would surely be on his own again, no one wanting to talk with a Phantom, but that was just his own fault after all. He would always be the Phantom rat among them, until death takes him. He had simply killed too many under the Phantom's Eye to ever be something else.

Jessalyn walked up to him, grabbing one of the newly forged swords and a scabbard from the stands. She sheathed the weapon along the way and held it out toward him. The wild man frowned at her in bewilderment for a moment before hesitantly lifting his arm and dumbfounded accepting the fine blade.

“As the commander of the fallen great Southern Guard of Fiore used to lecture his trainees, 'If you keep count of your kills you are even stupider than you look. You don't build glory nor shame on others demise, for every kill is one of its kind. Don't you be conceited enough to think the numbers will save or condemn you, for you are just a murderer as any other'”, the green eyed woman said.

“A Phantom offspring can become the best archer ever seen, a Phantom knight can become a Freeheart loyal, a town lord's grandchild can become a king and Freeheart woman can become a cruel daemon. Do not take pride in the death of others. Do not edge the imagery of bloody corpses cut down with your sword into your mind. Do not let it define you or guide your future actions.

A victory is to be celebrated, the dead to be honoured, but never enjoy the kill, never indulge in the spill of blood, only in the win. With that being said, become the strength that will cleanse this land of those that find joy in it and kill for sport”, she continued as she walked back into the middle of the training range.

“Well go on! We aren't here to stand around!”, she ordered and the men and women returned to their practice, the rogue and knight in the middle of it all a little disoriented and thoughtful before finally focusing properly again and continuing their match.

Laxus and Erigor faced another as the last match and the blond man won with sheer strength. The broadsword of his enemy was easily pushed aside with a shove of his shield. With a step forward, a stationary charge of pure muscle, he had the loyal fall to the ground.

“Very impressive”, Rose said and Jessalyn gave a grunt of disapproval, seemingly sure she would win the honour match she now owed the king-to-be. She put the heavy helmet on and drew her swords.

Dual wielding short swords was a very odd practice for a knight, but Laxus was sure she had the skill to back it up. He figured she was more of a swordswoman in reality, but was so smooth in the heavy armour that its superior protection was worth the extra weight. She never seemed to mind it when mounting her horse, swinging up as though it had no weight. Perhaps she found it as light as he did?

Pulling his visor down again, he drew his sword and took a steady grip of his shield before stepping up to her. The Freeheart woman was very skilled indeed, feinting him many times and forcing him to block not only with shield but even with his sword at times.

Not really finding an opening against her, he walked right into her instead, bashing his shield against her, but she didn't loose her balance due to it. When he did it again, he found the time to loge her sword between his own and the side of his shield, tearing it from her hand and then forcing her to back up even more.

With only one sword left in hand, she switched to hold it in her right. While trained ambidextrously, she was still dominant with her right, as most were. Forced to block the young lord's swings with the blade, she gave him an opening to bash her again and he managed to knock the second sword from her grasp.

He smirked triumphantly and was shocked when the woman tackled him head on, lodging his sword arm in a firm grip and sweeping his foot aside to send them both tumbling down in a loud crash of metal.

From under the covering helm, he had little to no view of the happening and was completely overwhelmed by it, not even finding the time to react and pull his shield up before she peeked something through the slits of his visor. When he blinked up against the sun, he saw that she had brought her dagger to a stop a bare inch from his face.

“Don't think you've won before you actually have”, Jessalyn scolded and climbed off him, standing back up with surprising elegance in the restricting armour even after his hard pushes and hits.

She pulled the helmet off with a tired sigh, her breath visible in the cold air and her forehead slightly damp. A small bruise was forming on her temple from where his shield had caught her. Even with it, she looked incredibly strong, majestic even with such a shining armour. This woman really was a general.

“Come on, get up already”, she hissed and he sat up, pulling his own helmet off. “That wasn't exactly a knight's way to fight”, he said in amusement. “I never said 'fight like your profession'. I said 'fight your best'”, Jessalyn simply stated.

She looked back at him as she pulled her gauntlet off and sheeted her dagger. “You should train more with your guards. Learn some better footwork and let your rogue show you the danger of daggers against heavy armour”, she lectured before calling their practice to an end.

When they relaxed and washed in the warm waters of Hargeon's bathhouse again, Bickslow couldn't help but wonder about the man that had been so cruelly singled out as 'rat' during the Freeheart leader's scolding speech.

The lilac haired leader had given Gajeel a sword and the rogue was not the only one that first then realised the knight hadn't been allowed one before now. It made no sense. Why was the man so hated by the Freehearts? If he had done something so bad he couldn't be trusted to carry a weapon, why was he even allowed to ride with them?

Gajeel raised a pierced eyebrow at the rogue that inched closer to him, his visor on even in the warm bath. What did that man have to hide? Seriously, that was beyond creepy. The black and blue hairstyle was very unorthodox as well, but at least fit in with the rest of his weirdness in a slightly charming way.

“What?”, he asked when the rogue was at his side. “Why did Jessalyn refer to you as rat?”, Bickslow asked and he tensed up. He didn't need to look around to know that everyone was watching them now, listening sharp in curiosity.

The loyals that were present gave him pointy looks, making it clear they would speak up if he didn't admit to it himself. Taking a measured breath, he repressed any sigh trying to crawl up from his throat.

“Because I am a Phantom”, he said and the silence grew thick in the men's bath. “Oh, well that explains it”, Bickslow smirked and he looked back at the man bewildered. “I did wonder why everyone seems to have such a problem with you”, Laxus stated and his frown deepened further.

“How come you're here then?”, the lord asked, his orange eyes looking up to meet the wild man's red ones. “I, eh... Levy saved my life”, the Phantom answered. He had not expected this kind of reaction at all, this kind of acceptance.

The Freeheart loyals didn't say anything to the situation, keeping their silence as the Fairy Tail men didn't seem to mind this information at all. The talk Jessalyn had given just now seemed to play out in his advantage, especially with the sword he had been entrusted. If not for it, they would surely speak up against him.

“How?”, the black and blue haired rogue asked curiously. “Rose caught me while riding for Crocus Rove and Levy asked Jessalyn not to execute me. Jessalyn allowed me to pledge my loyalty instead of dying then”, Gajeel answered. He held his left hand up, palm toward them demonstratively.

“A blood oath. That's why you're always so protective of Levy”, the rogue chuckled in understanding. “An oath of honour”, Freed commented, seeming almost a little impressed. “That is not the usual, is it?”, Laxus asked and Gajeel shook his head. Most loyals simply swore to it, but that would have been far from enough to let him live despite his previous affiliation.

“Gyha. Levy really is a pretty tough girlie isn't she?”, Bickslow laughed and the blond lord nodded a little. He watched the wild man for a while longer, wondering. Levy had said she had lost everything to the Phantoms, had spoken of rape and piles of corpses, a head on a spike. Why would she save a Phantom?

In the evening everyone seemed to have forgotten about the talk in the bath house, happily celebrating together. They drank and cheered and Levy mumbled something about her loyal being allowed to indulge just today, but he kept himself from getting drunk either way since he had promised her so last year.

After Jessalyn's explicit symbol of trust, the women had gossiped during the bath as well and the newcomers now kept their distance from him, not liking what they had heard in the least. Only the Fairy Tail Guards didn't seem to mind.

He would have guessed that they never saw the true face of the Phantom's Eye had he not known that to be entirely wrong. They had seen it aright. Perhaps their approval had something to do with living and fighting beside Juvia. The woman was the child of a Phantom after all.

When Levy left the bar for the night to sleep, he stayed and ended up chatting with one of the local women. The more she drank, the more flirtatious she got and he enjoyed the attention immensely. It seemed the sword at his belt gave him a whole new opening with the women again. A fighter was attractive, he knew that as well.

“You are pretty attractive you know, but I didn't dare come up to you earlier. I need a few drinks”, she admitted and he smirked amused, not really able to tell if she was serious or just bullshiting him to get laid. It didn't really matter either way, because he sure as hell needed no further encouragement.

He tried to convince her to go upstairs before all the others went to bed so they could make use of the crook at the end of the upstairs hallway and she ensured him she would, but first after a few more rounds. After the third, she was blackout drunk and helped home by a friend.

Gajeel sighed deeply and walked upstairs.Typical. He had been without any real release for far too damn long. Sword or not, no one would come up to him like that while the little blunette was around, and that was pretty much always. With Levy so close all the time, his alone time was restricted too, only finding a couple of hurried minutes with his hand a few times a week.

In some cities one would have been able to relax back in the bathhouse, but here it was far too crowded and he was sure as hell not going to excuse himself from his liege's side to go for a fuck. That would be just wrong in every way. This just now had probably been his best shot to get laid for the coming years.

Slightly frustrated by the thought, he crept into bed and pulled the blankets over himself.

This would not get easier once the blunette grew into a woman. She really ought to find a second loyal to give him some time off, or at least get a proper stay where they did not sleep in the same room, the same damn bed. That was bound to become awkward in the future.

With another sigh, he closed his eyes to rest.

  


 


	19. The Power of Words

When spring melted the snow and the Fairy Tail Guards returned to Hargeon, Jessalyn sent Lahar and Doranbolt with Curtis to lead the trading caravan. They were supposed to let the roles of first, second and third in command rotate for every iteration in order to practice.

The Freeheart Army would need a considerable number of good leaders in order to take and keep large portions of Fiore, especially without a central stationing such as the capital, and expertise required experience.

They were supposed to check in with the harbour cities as well along the way. It was solely to show their presence and strength, the areas around the cities trading mostly via the ocean. Now that they had Mid Bugbane under their flag, the towns around White Run too had good trading connections and solely needed a little stroking.

With the trade becoming more self-sustaining again, the Freeheart Army could focus far more strength on their expansion. They aimed to secure a greater part of Crocus Rove. It was a balance act to decide how far to go, though. To push too close to Crocus wouldn't be wise this soon since they couldn't risk being seen as a threat, but to secure more of the broad cobblestone road would ease trade with the capital and bring them closer to their goal once it was time.

When they prepared for this, Jessalyn insisted that Makarov Dreyar leave for Magnolia Town again. “Your grandson may be the heir to the throne, but you are a town lord and should protect your town. What if bandits use the East Cut river to expand south? Where do you want to be when that happens? Protect your lands and let us take care of this”, she had explained in her usual harsh tone.

The elder was very sceptical, but after Laxus's royal guard dutifully ensured that they had the blonde's back, he accepted it and returned to his town to protect their standing toward the north.

Levy could tell Jessalyn had said this at least partially because the blond knight had managed to convince her he was a sane choice for his position. Had he not, she would have wanted the town lord with them, for the elder she already knew was a great and kind leader.

The scholar's daughter had again been ordered to stay and now calmly did so. She had Wendy under her wing now, and thus a proper reason to stay behind while everyone else left to see the world and make it a better place. She truly wished to be part of that, but she could see that she did more good here, able to help a healer in the making in her studies.

The young girl had great potential and Levy was sure she would turn out to be a great healer before the age of fifteen if she kept working this hard.

Herself, she decided it was time to mentally go back to her home town and document the happenings. She would manifest the memory of everyone that died under the Phantom's Eye during the Battle for Aster with ink and quill.

In a second piece she worked on simultaneously, she would capture the current happenings. She wrote down everything she knew about the Freeheart Bandits, the family Dreyar, the Fairy Tail Guards and this quest they now were on.

It required a lot of research, but to her joy, most were eager to speak with her and tell her everything they knew or had heard. Sorting fiction from fact was no easy task, but she was quite sure her general idea was fair enough, especially now that she knew the leader of the Freeheart Bandits personally.

She wrote even what she believed to be fiction down, sorting it under 'Rumours and Common Believes'. Among these stories was gossip about the different fights the Freehearts had been involved in.

Her writing told of the Freeheart family, a once proud noble family residing in the town of Akane. The town used to reside by the southern delta of the East Cut river that parts the long sand beach of Akane Bay in two. It had been a traders wet dream, but living in the harbour town was often compared to settling in hell.

Reports of the town lord being accused of abusing his power and beating his staff and children were numerous, but none confirmed. When Jessalyn was to be wed on her fifteenth birthday, she slit the throats of both her betrothed and her father in front of the entire town, only moments before they were supposed to head into the gods' house for the wedding ceremony.

Some could paint colourful images of her in blood stained white dress with their stories. It was believed she picked this moment because both men were close another, not vigilant, but she wouldn't have to defile the altar with a murder. Levy didn't doubt it had been meticulously planed.

What happened after the murders was a cluster of rumours and contradictions, but what was clear was that the town burned so bright, the fires could be seen all the way along the Akane Bay. The stench of burning corpses had been flowing with the wind over the water for days, all of Mai's Head reeking.

It was a bloody beacon that announced the birth of the Freeheart Bandits, the group that in the following years would gather every woman they came across that did not accept a future of abuse.

Some said Jessalyn set the city ablaze her own self while others claimed she had tried to stop it. What was true, maybe only Jessalyn herself knew.

Much later, when the last king died and the E. Fiore family line ended, the group of bandits gained their almost royal status. And now, with the Dreyar family in the lead, they truly had become an army of the revolution.

Levy wrote about the fights with Phantom Lord and the retaking of the eastern coast. The tunnel into Mai was something she left out of her documents, not wishing to leave the city vulnerable.

When finally bringing herself to write about the inner workings of Aster, she dipped the quill anew and took a deep breath. It was hard to keep calm while writing about all the people that had lived in the small town, every one so precious to her and now gone.

A terrible fate had met these good people and it hurt to think of them again, to truly let every single memory flood back into her mind. Giles, she dedicated a lot of time to, the brave baker's boy that had stopped to warned them instead of running to save himself.

She wrote of his last words and death. It was hard to try and find the right words for what had happened, not to play it down but also not to dramatize. It was important to her to leave behind an accurate text about all this, something descriptive and true.

Reaching the part where the Freehearts encircled the town in the safety of the dark, she felt her hand grip the quill a little harder. She dipped it again and continued, “... shooting a fire arrow to burn the tower to the ground and in the process killing many of the...”

She stopped as the ink shifted on the paper. It seemed to glow like live coal. The very word 'fire' became but slits in the parchment. When the glow died out, she realised she had let ink drop down onto the page in her fascination and set the quill aside. She lifted the page bewildered, looking through the slim slits that where left behind, the edges slightly scorched.

“What the hell?”

She put the page down again and further down wrote, “Fire.” Nothing seemed to happen and she frowned down at the paper. That was definitely not normal behaviour of black ink. Taking a long deep breath to calm herself, she got up and searched the library for any hints.

First of all, what category was she searching for? Flammable items? No, it was quite obvious that paper could burn. Perhaps something along the lines of oil or self igniting substances? She walked along the rows of books, searching.

Far up on one of the shelves she spotted a book titled 'The Science of Fire'. It should make for a good spot to start, but was far too high up. Typical. It was already past noon and Gajeel was at the training range, the tall man usually helping her in this situation. The third library house didn't have any kind of step to help her up either.

Levy dragged her chair across the floor and climbed onto it, the book still just so out of her reach. Cursed be her short statue. Staring up at the book like it was mocking her, she tried to think of something that might enable her to get it when her attention was caught by something else. 'Magic. Forms and Hidden Effects', a thick tome read.

Of course. This was not a natural phenomena at all. It was magic. It simply had to be. She pulled the thick book from its shelf and carried it back to the table, opening the dust covered work. Magic was very rare, but it existed. Only few magicians were known in Fiore and all of them had seemed to vanish into thin air with the fall of The Crown.

Magic was something hard to understand. It was a science of emotion and unseen powers. It was said the deities and spirits of Earth Land were what determined who can and cannot make use of it. It was far more usual among scholars to find any hint of magic, constantly dealing with the inner workings of this world.

When the door opened, Levy's head snapped up in surprise. She had been so drawn in by the book, she didn't even realise hours had gone by. “Are you aright?”, Gajeel asked, his liege standing hunched over the thick book, arms rigid as though she was discovering something unbelievable.

“Ah, yea, sure, I'm fine”, the teenager rambled, taking the page she had been writing on before and crumbling it in her hands. “I just... this didn't turn out good at all, so I'm a little frustrated”, she lied and tossed the paper.

She closed the thick book and carried it back, pulling the chair back to the table and closing the ink pot to leave everything orderly before taking her far slimmer current choice of reading and leaving with the wild man.

Levy found it impossible to focus on her reading while they sat in The Hargeon Rest, her thoughts running wild. Why did the ink ignite? What was magical about that word? “Fire”, she mumbled and Gajeel gave her an odd look. The teenager relaxed back, finally putting her book down.

It hadn't gone past her loyal that she'd been staring at the same page for over half an hour now. “Are you sure you are okay?”, he asked. “Yea, of course. Why would you ask?”, the blunette tried to play it off and he suppressed an amused smile.

She was a terrible liar. In fact, the word 'terrible' would be insulted to be compared to her lying skills. He had always thought that scholars would be very good liars, well educated and every sentence thought through, but it seemed not even vast knowledge helped against nerves.

Whatever it was that bugged her didn't seem to be something she wanted to share with him, though, so he kept his silence.

When she still seemed as agitated after a weeks time, he forced her to do extra training. He hoped it would give her something else to focus on than whatever mystery she had encountered in the library. It always helped him, to work out properly and exhaust himself in order to get out of his head.

Levy did relax mentally during these prolonged sessions and, as she too noticed the effect it had on her, didn't complain, doing her best even when the knight pushed her to the edge of what she could handle. She did improve a lot, at times even able to get the man to block an attack, moments that had her face light up with pride.

“You're getting better, Shrimp”, Gajeel commented and she grinned happily. “Don't get too exited. Its not like you could win a real fight”, continued at once and she huffed, “Mean.” “Realistic”, he defended. “Still mean”, she insisted, putting her hands on her hips. The loyal smiled back at her. She was cute when she pouted like that.

After bathing, Levy headed for the library. Gajeel sat down by the door again and she sat down at the table further into the house, hidden from his view. She found it hard to believe, but there was no other explanation left. She had to have magic in her.

Taking a sheet of paper, she opened the ink pot and tried again, writing carefully, “Fire.” When nothing happened, she closed her eyes and focused. Magic was tied to emotions. The fire that had burnt the tower in Aster, had it collapse and kill many Phantoms, taking revenge for so may lost lives. She felt the emotions fill her again and reopened her eyes.

This mental image before her, she wrote again, “Fire”, feeling her very hatred flow into the ink, and it ignited, a sharp darting flame rising from the paper and setting it alight.

Shocked, the scholar's daughter quickly dropped a book atop the flame to quenched it. “Levy?” She tensed and quickly opened the book, trying to look like she was reading calmly as her loyal turned the corner of bookshelves.

“What was that?”, Gajeel asked. “What was what?”, she asked back, a deep blush colouring her cheeks. “You don't just yelp without reason”, the man said firmly, seeming irritated that she didn't tell him what was going on.

Shit. She hadn't even realised she yelped. “Ah I just...”, she couldn't even come up with a lie for reason. “I have no idea what it is you are up to. Just tell me if there is anything that could actually harm you, aright?”, Gajeel said and she nodded. “You'd better”, he grumbled and left her again.

Levy exhaled and let her head drop to the table. She lifted the book to take a peek and the uncomfortable smell of burning paper met her nose before she could see the ashes of the paper she had been writing on, only the edges still intact. Cleaning her mess, she took a new paper and pondered. No more playing with fire in the library.

She closed her eyes and saw the full and rich Aster Run before her inner eye, the fertile lands along the coast, the flowering of large fields and calm they brought. A warmth spread in her and she tried, “Water.”

As soon as she lifted the quill again, the ink flowed out, the colour vanishing and the paper soaking the water up. She stared at it for a long moment. She was a magician. This was huge. It was unbelievable! A smile spread over her lips. This was actually real!

She kept experimenting when no one watched, bringing back emotions and writing different words to see what would happen. Moving her experiments outside, she managed to create a good litre of water, to start fires and cause grass to suddenly sprout forth.

It was fascinating to explore all this, to see her emotions come to life in an all new way and alter reality with her own two hands. It was like nature itself wanted to prove to her that the world could be changed in profound ways by the hands of few.

 


	20. History Lessons

During winters wait, Levy couldn't study her magic in peace any more. The bar was far too crowded, constantly someone at her side. Especially Gajeel was always there. She had used the time when he was training on his own to play with this or secretly experimented when there was a thick bookshelf separating them, but now he was at her side all day long.

She only sometimes let a small emotion form a word of magic, writing it into the air and hiding it from curious eyes.

She smiled a little as she read the latest fictional work she had borrowed. The scenery described was absolutely stunning and she sighed in relaxation. As she let herself be swept away, the words she read turned to grass, a small flower growing out of it. She quickly shut the book, looking down at it worriedly.

That was new. She had been sure she had to write a word in order to make it come to life, but it seemed that letting her feelings connect with a written word was enough. That was going to be troublesome.

Now that she thought back in it, it made sense. The way she would see the world though the map her father had drawn, the way she could see eagles fly out of the pages of her books when she read and had always felt like the fictional characters were talking to her. It had not been her imagination at all. It was her magic.

Someone cleared his throat and she looked around. Behind her, Makarov stood with a firm expression. The scholar's daughter felt her heart beating faster. How long had he been there? Had he seen it? “Yes?”, she managed in a fairly calm voice.

“We need to talk”, was all he said before heading upstairs, the nervous scholar's daughter right behind him. Gajeel got up as well, but she motioned him to stay since she figured that the Lord Dreyar wanted to speak with her alone.

Standing in the upstairs room the elder stayed in, she was tense. She clutched the book she had been reading against her chest. “Give it to me”, Makarov said and she hesitantly handed it over, the elder surely already knowing what had happened to be acting this way.

He opened the book where the small white flower had been mashed between the pages and asked, “Is this an important text in any way?” “No, My Lord. It is a fictional story with many copies”, she answered and he ripped the two pages out, balling them together and holding them over a candle to burn.

“Levy”, the elder sighed, turning back to her with a worried frown. “You cannot let anyone see this. If you are a magician, you have to hide it. It is dangerous”, he said firmly. “I only ever practice outside”, she ensured him.

“That's not what I mean. If someone finds out that you can use magic, you will become a target. It is dangerous for you if anyone knows. The mages that used to live in Crocus and studied their art within the walls of the castle, they knew this as well and fled, keeping their talent hidden for the time being. You had better do the same, or it will end badly. Do you understand?”, he lectured.

Levy nodded a little, discouraged that she wouldn't be able to play with this fantastic ability any more. “It is for the best. Keep it hidden, stay unnoticed, stay safe”, Lord Dreyar said softly and took her hand in his.

“Don't worry about the book. I will return it myself and tell the librarian that I accidentally ruined it. Now, go, don't leave your loyal wondering”, he said before letting go and watching her leave the room.

Levy took a few deep breaths. She felt like a great treasure had been taken from her, to be locked away, well in sight but unreachable, mocking her. Swallowing back any sadness, she walked down the stairs again.

Once a new king was crowned, The Scholarship of The Crown would be born anew as well and she would be able to explore this, to study it properly and perhaps even speak with and learn from other mages, but for now, she knew the elder was right. She had to make sure no one found out. The only way to be completely safe was not using it at all.

“What was that about?”, Gajeel asked at once when she sat back down. “Nothing really”, she smiled and he frowned at her sceptically. He knew something had happened, but again forced himself not to ask. As long as she told him if there was anything he could do, he would respect her secrets. Everyone had a few.

Now forced to find something else to occupy herself with, Levy went back to her documentation of the happenings before the years of Chaos. After sorting her notes, she sat down with the large gathering at the hearth and showed her work to the Freeheart leader.

Laxus was rather surprised to find Jessalyn could read. It was rare, even most nobles only just so passable readers. He himself had troubles with it, only having had a few lessons with his grandfather in his youth.

It took a little while, but the literate woman read the entire text through before lifting her head. “It's good”, she complimented. “Is it correct, though?”, Levy asked and she shrugged, “To the most part”

“You never really speak of your past”, Laxus commented thoughtfully. “True. I don't”, the Freeheart stated. “Why not?”, the blonde asked blatantly. “If you're so curious, you can read this work as well”, Jessalyn teased, holding the stack of paper up. “I'm not an awfully good reader”, he admitted. “Well, then you had better start learning. You're supposed to be a king. A king has to be able to read without trouble”, the lilac haired woman lectured. “Levy can surely help you. She taught Wendy after all”, she added. It was more an order to them both than a suggestion.

“Can't you tell me what actually happened that day?”, the blunette requested as she took her manuscript back. “What does it matter?”, Jessalyn questioned. “Details of history always matter”, the scholar's daughter determined and the Freeheart leader relaxed back in her chair a little, eyeing the girl sceptically.

Sighing, she finally nodded. “Fine, aright.” “I never set the city on fire myself. Lord Freeheart was a cruel man. He didn't give two fucks about me nor my mother. I was but a bargain chip for him. He didn't care what I did all day as long as my teachers reported good behaviour and excellent results.

That I sneaked into the yard and trained with the leader of his army, he didn't even know. The leader taught me how to read, to write, to fight and ride. He was hard on me, especially in the beginning. 'A lady has no place in an army. She will be mistreated', he warned me. He had me clean the stables and carry armour for a year before accepting my resolve, but once he did, he trained me well.

When I was old enough to marry at fifteen, my father sold me to another noble, a rich old man that had lost his wife to sickness. I killed Lord Freeheart and my husband-not-to-be and then started slaughtering their guards, effectively killing off everyone that would have been able to stop the fires.

The ones that committed arson were the people of Akane. They trashed and burned the city as the word spread that the city lord was finally dead, daring to let their anger out for the first time in forever. They burned not only the corpses but the city hall, the Freeheart Mansion and other buildings symbolic of the royals of Akane. The fires spread quickly in such a summer dry wooden town and soon the entire city was ablaze despite its proximity to the ocean.

The people that had once been living there separated to move out in all directions. I and a few others then came here to build Hargeon”, she told the teenager. She smiled at the blunette that eagerly wrote what she said down.

“Was that leader the captain of the Southern Guard of Fiore?”, the scholar's daughter asked. “Yes, he was. You are sharp. He actually saved my life during the riot. Some had not heard just how the riot started and thought me an enemy, part of the Freeheart family. He protected me with his life, helped me get to Hargeon”, Jessalyn nodded.

“I thought Hargeon was built after the fire of Akane?”, the blunette questioned. “No. It was just very small, present on no maps. It was poor and we had to start stealing. That's how the Freeheart Bandits were born. It wasn't quite as glorious as many seem to think. There was no grand plan. We were just hungry and had nothing else.

Taking in all others that were in the same situation, we quickly grew in numbers and could produce more on our own, becoming a proper town. The fortification of Hargeon began when The Crown Army came looking for us. We weren't worth starting a battle, too small fish to catch, but had we been out in the open, we would have been taken down fast.

Hargeon, the bandit harbour, that's what this city was know as for a long time. To think I would go back and fight for a nobleman again. Heh, life can be odd indeed”, the leader said. She smiled a little in amusement and gave the blond Dreyar a teasing look.

Levy wrote her words down as thoroughly as she could mange in this haste. “You are a good scholar, Levy. You will go far if you keep your mind to it, I know it”, Jessalyn said and the girl brightened up visibly. “Thank you!”

“Do get our king-to-be a book. Teach him, I'm serious. Its is important that he can read properly if he is going to rule over us all”, the green eyed woman stated, shooing them both with her hands.

Sighing, Laxus got up. He knew she was right. He had just hoped to postpone any studying until he was in the castle. So far, it was all still very unreal. It didn't feel like he really would sit on the throne one day. That he had even agreed to this crazy idea.

It would be a great honour, being crowned in the halls of Mercurius, but it was also a great responsibility. He had felt that burden especially when Goldenseal burned to the ground right under his nose. That was just one town. To have the entirety of Fiore to protect. It was good to know that he would have lots of councillors, advisers and other help at his side.

The teenager led him down through the snowy park and into the third house of the library, where she mostly sat. She placed her papers down on a desk she had claimed and turned to him.

“So... how good are you at reading?”, she asked carefully. “Not very”, he answered. It was highly uncomfortable in this hall, so cold, not even the sun able to give a little hint of warmth behind the walls. “What are you interested in? There is everything from fiction, over medical journals to agriculture to be found here”, the little scholar asked.

He figured he might as well try and kill two birds with one stone by reading something helpful. “What do you reckon I should learn?”, he asked instead. “It depends. History of Fiore? Military strategy? Economics? Law? What do you want to be knowledgeable about? You will have advisers for everything, but you will still have to make the calls in the end”, Levy responded thoughtfully.

The blonde bit back an amused huff. Seems he had a literature adviser right here. “I don't know. Just pick something”, he shrugged. Right now, he just wanted to get back into the warmth of The Hargeon Rest. “Fine then. History is important. You cannot understand the struggles of people if you don't know their background”, the blunette determined and picked a thick tome from a shelf.

Seeing the huge work, he immediately regretted letting her decide. The longest text he had read so far was a short memoir, talking about the creation of Fairy Tail and the adventures of its first master, Mavis Vermilion.

This book was a whole new challenge, but with Levy's help he worked his way through the important parts.

All three would they sit in the bar with a book in hand, Levy, Wendy and now even Laxus. Bickslow often peeked over his liege's shoulder as he read, learning with him curiously. Freed was very helpful, correcting him whenever he didn't have Levy around to do so.

As the wait ended, he felt a little proud to have bested the thick book. History had never been a subject of great interest to him, but the scholar's enthusiasm was contagious. There was quite a lot to be know about the different regions of Fiore and the ancient wars that had once raged, forming the flowering country and its culture.

When he put the book back, the scholar was sitting at her desk in the cold room again, writing eagerly on her addition to the documentation of Fiore's history. She noticed him and before he could flee or protest gave him another book as homework.

There was spunk in the girl. No wonder she had managed to tame a man such as Gajeel. He was still curious about that, but not about to ask with the former Phantom in the room. Leaving the subject for later, he headed back into the warm inn.

  



	21. The City of Wine

After the successful claiming of land the previous two years, Jessalyn declared they would take a large chunk this year again. “Suggestions?”, she asked as they sat in the bar of The Hargeon Rest to discuss, as always making their planing sessions public.

“To have all of the Southern Line would be a great asset. If we have the entire south coast, we would also have all of the trade with Minstrel, Bosco and even Stella and Joya too”, Levy suggested. “True. One may sail past the east coast, but to round the entire country when trade is to be had closer by would be simply stupid”, Roseagreed.

“And to rule that much of the trade would gain the Dreyar family a lot of influence and thus power. All traders would know the name and carry it further inland”, Levy added. The value of the traders' words was not to be underestimated. Whenever big news spread, you would hear them from the traders even before any letter arrived. That was true even during times of peace.

“There would need to be a very strong affliction with someone further away or a deep rooted hatred for the ones residing close by to waste the time and resources to sail past the Southern Line”, Makarov nodded his agreement. “Do you have any such enemies?”, Laxus asked and Jessalyn shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

With that, it was decided.They would ride further west, to Lucilia Rise, the great mountain chain that dominated the western lands of Fiore, and take the last stretch of land that belonged to theSouthern Line. Levy drew a map over the area with what she found in the library and presented it to the group of leaders the next day.

The coast was surely lined with numerous towns and settlements, but there was little to no information on them. From the old map she had memorised so well back in her family home, she knew there to be a city named Heather at the very west peak of the south coast.

She didn't know how large it was or what characterised it, but it was definitively an important strategic position, not the westernmost city of Fiore, but definitively the westernmost trading harbour of the Southern Line.

“I'm coming with this time”, she stated firmly and Jessalyn sniggered. “Fine, come with. One needs to get out sometimes, right?”, she smiled and the scholar's daughter grinned happily. She had been afraid to be ordered the opposite and was relieved she could ride out with them.

Gajeel seemed glad as well, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had longedtoride out again, now as a true soldier, sword, armour and all. While the batteredfull plate Levy had managed to organise for him from the leftovers at the smithy wasn't half what he had during his time in Phantom Lord, if felt great to have the weight of it on his shoulders once more.

After being shipped all the way to Mid Bugbane, he didn't feel half a sick as usual. Looking forward to this all too much, he was quickly able to catch himself once there was firm ground under his feet again.

Their arrival was made easy by Lord Pip greeting them with open arms. A ratherlarge group oflocals helped them along with getting their strength and equipment from the harbour and out the western gates where they set up camp by the delta of White Run. They had to rest a night before the long ride ahead.

Last time, Levy and Gajeel hadn't really had the time to truly look at the great harbour city that was Mid Bugbane, the grand stone city with Freeheart and Fairy Tail flags waving on very high roof. It was a proud statement to have quite this much cloth in the wind. The city lord was truly fond of them to do this even without a single Freeheart soldier staying within the walls to serve him.

After setting their own resting place up, the two looked around the city curiously. It was soon Levy's fifteenth birthday and she happily celebrated this by dragging her loyal all around the markets and along the wide harbour.

The market stands were filled with piles of everything they could and could not recognise, exotic fruits and spices, incredibly thin cloth and jewellery all the way from Pergrande mixing with potatoes, corn, cotton, linen, beautifully ornamented wood bracelets and finely stitched hair bands.

Enthralled, Levy didn't notice how her loyal slipped away for a moment to spend the little money he had collected during the past years and was surprised when he stopped her, holding something out and murmuring, “Happy Birthday, Shrimp.”

A slim orange cloth hair band with a pink aster ornament was clutched in his hand and she smiled warmly. “Thank you Gajeel.” She turned around and he sighed, not having aimed for this.

He stepped up right behind her and pulled her soft hair back, the silky strands falling through his fingers smoothly. Tying the hair band for her, he left a few strands to the front, finding her quite cute with bangs.

When he let go, she tilted her head to look up at him and smiled brightly. “How does it look?”, she asked amused. 'Cute' was the answer that went through his mind, but instead he shrugged a little and responded, “It's a nice head band.” “Mean”, she huffed and he couldn't help but chuckle at her little pout.

She was starting to have some actual hips to put her hands on when she was irritated with him, her tunic bunching up over them ever so little. He should really not let her out of eyesight any more now that she grew into such a pretty thing.

Realising that he was staring at her, he turned around and stalked toward the harbour instead. Following after her loyal happily, Levy stopped by the edge of the stone piers, enjoying the constant wind of the ocean rolling in over the city in a cooling breeze.

It was still a bit early in the year, but the feeling of spring seemed to already have made its way into the stone city and the lands beyond, into every person's heart, couples walking along the promenade hand in hand.

She nudged her loyal and took his hand to walk on along the harbour, the tall man tensing for a second before acting like nothing. He could really be too adorable at times.

This spring night, they sleep tight, the numerous sights, sounds and smells filling their dreams with happy thoughts and bright hopes. Once trade flourished across the entire country again, everyone would be able to see these treasures. Another reason to work for this cause.

When it was time to ride west in the morning, everyone got ready and waited for the call. Packing their gear into the saddlebags and then pulling the heavy armour on, Gajeel swung onto Hemera's back and indulged in the feeling of being a real knight again.

Levy smiled a little and he realised he hadn't helped her up first. “I go it”, she said firmly, holding a hand up to stop him from taking action. She had trained a lot and was stronger than ever before. It wasn't much compared to her loyal, but she could do this herself without any trouble.

Taking a firm grip of the saddle, she pulled herself up and set one boot into the high stirrup, then swinging onto Nyx's back elegantly. “Tada”, she smirked and Gajeel chuckled. It was easy for her now, but her tiny form still made it look funny.

Jessalyn yelled her order and every few meters someone repeated it loudly, the call for movement echoing along the caravan. They were riding out once more.

The people of Mid Bugbane waved after them happily as the camp dissolved and a long line of horses and carts formed, Levy again at the tip with the leaders so she could meddle in any discussions that might come up along the way.

Pride returned to Gajeel as he rode after his liege, not even caring about the disproving glances he still was given from time to time. Not even the two swordsmen that had taken to stalking his liege bothered him much.The feeling of being a real knight again was just glorious. He had his dignity back. He was no longer only a dog or rat, but a fighter that would protect his liege.

Pressing on west, the towns they found along the way seemed to know who they were before they even introduced themselves. The rumour of a possible heir named Dreyar had begun travelling through Fiore. That he was working with the Freeheart Army only gave his name more credibility.

His claim seemed to almost have become fully legitimate by that fact alone. Jessalyn was trusted all over the southern side of Fiore, whether she had been in a particular town yet or not. A man she promoted simply had to be righteous.

If this development continued, they would soon be able to ride for Crocus. As soon as they were sure the entirety of the southern half truly wanted him as king, they were ready. Half the country was by far enough to take the throne.

Riding in a zigzag between the Southern Line coast and the Lucilia Rise mountains, they saw spring flowers shake their petals off and summer flowers springing to life from thick buds, dotting the plains in all the colours of the rainbow.

The land here was fertile due to the countless streams running down from the mountains, collecting in many small ponds and creating marshlands that they had to round with their heavy caravan. The old wooden walkways and bridges helped them on their way across the stretch of land and finally, they reached the harbour city they had been aiming for, Heather.

There were no walls, no barricades or gates, the city spreading out over a wide stretch of land and farms mixing with smithy, carpenters and wineries, the mountainsides rich of grape plantations.

A small group of casually dressed men greeted them and it took a few moments before they realised the two farmers and three fishers were the leaders of this city. Only one among them was a city lord by name, Lord Heather, great-grandson of the founder of Heather, but they shared the responsibility evenly between themselves.

It seemed this portion of land was quite untouched by the developments in the rest of the world, living in their own little happy bubble. They agreed with the Dreyar claim, though. The instability in the rest of Fiore had caused their wine cellars to overfill instead of bringing them rich trade with the other cities.

Lord Heather explained that they with the claiming of this city not only gained the slim strip between the mountains and the coast, but the entire mountain range as well. The city's own influence reached all the way to the northern tips of Lucilia Rise, the various villages working together tightly to provide another with necessities and informing another if anyone neared in.

The mountains themselves were impassable for any larger troop of soldiers or bandits so they always rode around the western or eastern side where they were easily spotted, warned about and then ambushed before they reach the south. Even boats rounding the west could be spotted from the villages on the tips of Lucilia Rise.

In exchange for a protective strength in the city, the city lords would make sure the entire area supports the Dreyar claim and even promised to bring their flags all the way to the northern end of the mountain range. It was hardly a deal anyone needed to think on and they quickly agreed.

The army settled down on a few of the recently harvested fields, sending for ships from Mid Bugbane to return home. The bird ought to arrive in the trade capital within a few days time and then the ships had to reach back to Heather. It would thus take some time and the soldiers relaxed into rest at the tranquil western city.

With the beauty these lands held, it was not a question of ordering some to stay, but rather one of selecting a few among the volunteers to protect this area. It reminded Levy a lot of Aster and the time when the Freeheart Bandits first rode into their small town, several of the women and men staying in the lively forest. She felt over her new hair band and the small stitched aster flower. That man knew her way to well.

Staying in a city of wine, the soldiers celebrated the claiming of such a large landmass with heavy drinking, loud song and cheerful dancing far into the summer nights.

 


	22. Indulge

During the first day of celebration, Laxus noticed Levy sitting alone by her tent and scribbling in a small book with a simple coal pen, handy for travel, but not giving a very nice nor very permanent result on the paper.

Taking the opportunity, he motioned his guards to stay and walked over to the young scholar. “Levy?”, he said to get her attention and she looked up in surprise. “Yes, My Lord?” “Can I ask you something personal?”, the blonde asked and she nodded, at a loss what the man might want from her.

They had spoken a lot as of lately, but only about books, literature, different studies and reading as general theme. The young lord was not awfully enthusiastic, but determined and hard working nonetheless. It had definitely raised her opinion of him when she realised this.

“It's about your loyal. You said more than enough about the fate of your home town when Goldenseal burned. Why would you save a Phantom?”, he wondered. “He saved me”, the teenager simply answered and gained a curious look. She closed the small book and held her hands together. “Do you really want to hear the entire story?”, she asked seriously, making it clear that it was not a nice one.

Laxus nodded and sat down beside her on the felt she had settled on. His royal guards gave him a questioning look and he waved them off, the three making their way back to their sector of the camp without him. He turned to the teenager and she began telling her story.

He had heard some of it before, or at least had it hinted, but that she was so young when it happened and that the wild looking man had saved her from being raped was all new to him. He was quite fascinated by the fact that she could stay so calm while telling him of all this.

Neither of them noticed how Gajeel woke inside the tent and too listened attentively.

He felt almost guilty to even be spoken of in a positive manner after she had just vividly recalled how scary his eyes were to her upon their first meeting and how he had caught and taken her back to live through hell. When the blond man left and she crawled into the tent, he pretended to be asleep.

That she could truly connect him to words such as 'kind' after he had let her family die, let that baker's boy die, had almost gotten her raped and almost let her starve to death. He curled together a little more and forced the thoughts from his mind again. The past could not be changed. He would do right by her now, just as he had sworn.

During the second night of celebration, Jessalyn stepped into the blond Dreyar's tent, ducking under the orange flap that had been bound open and looking around in the spacious tent with interest. It was a different design than their own tunnel tents, held up in a cubic form instead.

Laxus and his company looked up from where they were seated in the middle of the shelter as she entered. They had made use of the crates containing the blonde's gear the same way she always did, making them chair and table. Beside the blonde lay a wineskin, a filled goblet in his hand to enjoy this day.

“Leave us”, the Freeheart leader ordered and Freed looked to his leader questioningly, the three royal guards first leaving when Laxus nodded. “Very dutiful and loyal. I like that”, Jessalyn smirked, causally tugging the tent flap closed behind them before strolling further inside.

She stood before the blonde and picked the cup from his hand as if it was her very right to do so, sipping at the red wine with a pleased hum. Laxus raised an eyebrow at the rude woman. It did not even really surprise him any more when she did these kinds of things.

“Remember when we met the first time in Hargeon Town?”, she asked amused. It sure seemed like she had indulged a few glasses of wine already to be that cheerful for once. Or maybe it was just this place, so green and tranquil. It was hard to tell with her.

“Yea?” he more asked than said as he watched her look around his shelter, picking the book lying by his equipment up and reading the title while she took another swing from his cup.

'The Maid's Dream' was strictly speaking a work of fiction, but Levy had insisted it would give him insight on the way lords used to treat the commoners under their protection in some cities. Akane was supposed to have been something like this, cruel and unforgiving.

“You swore upon your life that you aim to become king for the people and not for yourself”, she said and dropped the book again, instead drawing his sword from its scabbard and balancing it in her hand appreciatively.

It was a very well made piece. The décor on its pommel and the carvings going over the scabbard were something else, but she saw merely the comfortable hold and good blade as she inspected it, having lost her eye for art a long time ago.

She looked back at him and continued, “But you lied. I can tell you do this at least to half for yourself. You want to step out of the great and honourable Lord Dreyar's shadow, to be your own man. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you dare lie to me.”

He tensed a little at her words. She had threatened him quite crudely when he made that vow, but he doubted she was here to execute on it, her gaze soft and relaxed. “I guess that's true”, he admitted and she chuckled, “Thought so.”

“We are more alike than you would think, you and I. I too, while caring a lot for the people around me, and especially for my troops, am very proud of my position. There has never been a leader quite like me. No one has ever gathered this kind of strength and resolve in one place.

The Freeheart Army consists of all those that are willing to give everything in order to make the world just a little fairer, all those that will never accept the dice of fate, that will never simply go with their lot in life. No one even remembers the origin of the Winged Heart that we so proudly carry along, all seeing it as my emblem of power”, she told him.

Returning the well forged sword to its scabbard, she turned to the blond Dreyar and asked playfully, “Do you know what that symbol once represented?” “I don't”, he admitted and her lips curved up in a triumphant smirk. “It was my family crest.” Walking back to stand before him, she added, “And the Fairy Tail flag will become the new crown family's crest.”

She held the goblet out toward him and he noticed she had emptied it. Aiming to take it from her, he was surprised as she entwined her fingers with his. “Today, we celebrate”, she smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Laxus at first returned the touch of lips, but then quickly leaned back. “Not?”, Jessalyn teased. “I have someone I love”, he admitted. “That's good. Love is what this country needs most desperately”, the lilac haired woman smiled. She sat down beside him and refilled the goblet, telling him, “I have someone I love as well. That person is longer here, though.”

“How did he die?”, the blonde asked as she drank. “She died by my side in the Tower of Heaven. I was too much of a coward to return there and bring the rest of the retched place down, but luckily, the Fairy Tail Guards took care of that”, Jessalyn continued and handed him the goblet.

“Oh, so you...”, the Dreyar began surprised. “What?” “You were with another woman”, he said carefully. “Yea. So?”, she asked and he shrugged, “Nothing. I was just surprised.” He lifted the wine to his lips to avoid saying anything more to it. It was just a little unusual.

Jessalyn leaned close, her voice dropping to a purr on the last word as she told him, “I can enjoy both women and men.” “Well, as I said, I have someone”, Laxus said, putting the empty mug down once more.

“Are you in a relationship with her?”, Jessalyn asked. “No, but...” “Are you sworn to her then?”, she interrupted. “No”, he answered truthfully. “Then indulge a little, Your Highness”, the Freeheart leader smirked, nudging his chin toward her and kissing him again.

Laxus hesitated for a moment, but when the strong woman licked at his lips, he parted them, allowing himself this. He hadn't even admitted his love yet. Only this fighter of a woman even knew that there was someone. There was no reason for him not to enjoy a little. This was a celebration after all.

Setting the goblet down, he let his hands find the belt over her tunic, tugging the leather though its knot and letting it fall to the floor along with the sword attached to it. She really didn't need the armour to be an impressive sight, her strong body and firm green eyes enough to make her strength and leadership obvious.

He liked to claim that he was the same in this aspect, especially after the little hint from Levy when they talked by the gates of Mid Bugbane. It had helped him take charge over his army even verbally. Jessalyn had seemed to agree with him more since, but that she was interested in him this way, he wouldn't have guessed.

“You're thinking too much”, she smirked at his distant look and he huffed a laugh, moving one hand to cradle her neck as he kissed her again, now taking charge of the touch and shifting closer. He let his hands find her sides and pushed the firm tunic up.

It was quite odd to him to undress a woman from this kind of clothing, his partners usually wearing light and fine cloths, dresses and decorative bands or jewellery, not riding trousers and firm linen, hair a tousled mess.

As she lifted her arms to let him remove the tunic, he could see all her battle scars, the slashes of swords going across her sides and arms. But there were also old burn marks and what looked like hits of whip or rice. He retraced the injuries and elected not to ask, instead kissing her again and feeling up her warm skin, cupping her breasts.

Jessalyn stood and tugged at his tunic before walking over to the thick felts he used for bed, sitting down and watching as he untied his own belt and pulled the tunic over his head. Leaving it on the dry dirt ground, he knelt down beside her, taking her shoulders to push her down.

She felt over his arms and down his stomach appreciatively before lifting one hand to the scar going down his face. Not half as careful and respectful as him, she simply asked, “What is it from?” “I was hit by lightning”, he answered and she looked surprised, not having thought that to actually be the reason, despite the look of the scar. “That's unusual”, she commented.

“I was little and didn't seek shelter when it stormed”, he said and she smiled, “You've got to have a guardian angel.” “Perhaps”, he chuckled before getting back to the task at hand, untying the Freeheart's trousers. He caught the cloth between his fingers and she bucked up to help along with getting it out of the way before reaching for his clothes in turn.

As soon as he had removed the rest of his own clothes, she shoved him down and straddled him, steadying his cock with one hand and easing down. Laxus could feel her thighs tense under his hands when she brought herself up only to fall again, drawing a first deep moan from him.

Not much of her attention was needed to make the king-to-be yearn for control. He sat up a little with the aim to turn them around and have his way. Jessalyn would have none of it, though. She tugged his arms up and forced him back down.

It had been far too damn long and she wasn't about to let him rule this now, having found her own rhythm. The well built blonde would simply have to wait if this didn't do it for him, because she was no where near done.

Instead placing his hands back on her thighs, he bucked up to meet her for every raise and fall, urging a quicker movement on her and soon gaining an irritated shove against his hips for it. Grinning, he set his feet against the ground and thrust up hard.

“Bastard”, Jessalyn hissed, only the small smile on her lips betraying her amusement. Now that he had ruined her going either way, she indulged in his little game, making sure to stay upright by placing her hands on his lower stomach, feeling his abdominal muscles tense for every move.

She ran her fingers over the toned stomach. It was so obvious he hadn't seen any real battles, his skin so soft and smooth, untouched by sword or axe. He was a beauty and he was strong, able to keep this strenuous bucking of hips up even with her atop him, a woman weighing more than the usual damsel with her war trained body.

In the aftermath, both lay quiet, their hunger stilled and deep breathing slowly evening out. Laxus pulled a felt over them, wrapping his arms around the lilac haired woman and enjoying her warmth against himself as his eyes grew tired.

“Say, who is this woman you love?”, Jessalyn asked as she relaxed back against him. “She's a bartender at the Fairy Tail castle”, Laxus admitted. “Oh? What do you love with her?”, the Freeheart leader asked curiously. “She is very caring and nice and... she is beautiful too”, he said.

“Have you told her?”, Jessalyn asked and he shook his head. “You should. When you're king, she would surely be honoured to become your queen”, the Freeheart leader smiled.

“And this woman that you lost, who was she?”, he asked back. The lilac haired woman just shrugged, closing her eyes. “Come on. You can talk with me, can't you?”, Laxus tried. She always butted into everyone's business. It was only fair if she shared at least a little of herself as well.

“She was the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes upon. It wasn't in her body, her face or even her soul, it was in her actions. When I looked at her, I saw a warrior chosen by the gods, an angel with sword. I know it is blasphemy to claim such a thing, but that is what she was to me, a spirit of nature”, Jessalyn said quietly. She entwined her fingers with his and cuddled close to sleep.

He didn't press her for more, happy she had opened up to him a little as well. It felt like she had entrusted him a precious gift, a sign that she truly did trust in him and did think more of him than a puppet to put onto the throne like a piece onto a chessboard.

Come morning, they woke as someone entered the tent. Bickslow stood by the entrance and grinned broadly. “Gyhaha, it really was you two that were heard last night.” “Tsk, shut it”, Laxus scoffed and he laughed anew. “I though I ought to wake you up, 'cause the sun is already high”, the rogue said, still sniggering as he left again.

The blonde sighed and Jessalyn chuckled amused as she got up. She pulled her clothes on and then gave him a small wink before leaving as well.

Bickslow was sitting by one of the fires and eating breakfast with a couple of others already. They laughed as Jessalyn stretched by the tent of the future king and she gave them an amused smirk before heading toward her own shelter.

“Bickslow?”, Levy asked absent-mindedly. “Hm?” “Is sex all that pleasuring?”, the blunette asked and he blinked at her, answering loudly, “Hell yea! Don't tell me you're a virgin?” She nodded a little and he seemed completely dumbfounded. “No way, you're so pretty.” “Ehm, thanks”, she sniggered.

“If you ever wanna change it...”, he flirted, but stopped himself when the teen's loyal growled at him darkly. “Right right”, he chuckled. 


	23. Greedy Betrayal

When the ships from Mid Bugbane arrived in Heather, the farewell between soldiers and locals was tear filled. The feasts and long celebration of the entirety of southern Fiore uniting under one flag had birthed many new friendships.

The word spread quickly and additional names of interest surfaced. In Hargeon three former councillors had gathered to join their cause and assist the new king with their knowledge of the state affairs and experience in governing.

The first that introduced himself was Yajima, the former king's social and justice advisor. He was a small and old man, his slim body frail. He respectfully took the floppy hat covering his bald head off when meeting Laxus.

During his time in the service of the E. Fiore family, he had done his best to make sure The Crown cared for those in need and punished those that harmed others, and now wished to do the same under the new leadership. He knew well how to handle many of thedire situations that could occur when bandit groups roamed the countryside or towns went into uprising.

The second man was the former Elder Scholar of The Crown, Michello, a firm and calculating man with a brilliant eye for detail. His black eyes were sharp and hard under his well combed brown hair. It was mostly the cane he steadied himself on that told of his true age.

Ever since he joined The Scholarship of The Crown as young man, he had stood by the king's side with any information the leader might need and had made sure the documentations and books were kept in order, a very important and awfully tedious task that was easily neglected during tumult.

The third and last man was the far younger Siegrain, a strategist and the next in line to rise up as High Constable. He was a proud looking man with intense blue hair and a mark of his honourable heritage tattooed over the right eye, a pompous display of his nobility.

He knew how to play a foe into a corner, to spy them out and use information against them, and he was more than willing to apply this knowledge for the new king, to retake his former place in the royal court.

Laxus was quite happy to have them, but Jessalyn did not fail to remind him of his now years old vow. He was to take none of the former councillors back to his table. For once, they discussed behind closed doors, standing in the king's room upstairs, their eyes locked in irritation.

Laxus knew he had sworn to it, but he truly felt that he needed these influential men on his side. They knew how to handle difficult situations, had learned which risks to take and which to avoid. They would be a great asset to him.

He wanted to take these men back into Mercurius with him, but he couldn't as long as the stubborn green eyed woman before him did not agree. He knew that if he crossed her, she would make truth of her threat and he would loose his army. If that did not do the trick and he somehow managed to take the crown without her, a blade would find him. He knew very well she was not playing with those words.

“Someone that was once in power, went into hiding when things got hot but now comes crawling back out of his corner to claim a high position once more? No. Don't be fooled. Some of these men may truly be interested in the good of Fiore, but there are always rats among old flour”, Jessalyn argued.

“I hardly think that the councillors would do anything to disrupt peace. Besides, I can just make sure they don't have the authority to make anydecisions without me”, Laxus tried.

“Don't load the entire weight of ruling onto your own shoulders before you have even set foot in the castle. You will need people to govern different sectors for you, just as I need men to lead my troops in my absence. Just make them advisers instead of councillors. What's the differenceif they don't get to govern themselves either way?”, the Freeheart leader hissed.

“They had a far higher position, a stay in the palace even. I hardly think they will be happy with a standing that much lower all of a sudden. Even a commoner can become a regular adviser”, the blonde frowned. “If they care for Fiore, they will stay. If not, do you really want them at your table?”, Jessalyn asked sharply and he sat down on his bed with a huff.

Screw it all. He knew she wouldn't change her mind. There was a point to what she said, but it still bothered him. He just wanted to make sure they would stay, would help. He needed them.“I guess not”, he sighed. “See? Don't take the old members back. Refresh, restart. Make sure you bring real change”, the lilac haired woman stated.

He again felt like he was being lectured by an elder. Sure, she was twice his age, but she was not his guardian nor in a higher seat than him, not officially at least. “You let Lahar and Doranbolt back”, he grumbled irritably. Jessalyn slammed her hand down on the dresser at that. “That is hardly the same thing!”, she snarled.

“They were general and general to be. They fought as simple soldiers during the years of chaos, doing their damn best to keep some peace even though it was hard. They came to us and were offered lower positions than before, both only possibly generals to be, soldiers on trial”, she spelled it out, her voice calming over time as she spoke.

She knew he had only said that in frustration. He was not careful with his words, because he was utterly inexperienced as leader, even after all the practice he had gotten at her side. Just over twenty years old, he could be foolish sometimes.Both did they take a deep breath. There was no reason to fight now.

“Fine”, he nodded and she nodded as well in turn. She walked up to him and stroked a hand over his cheek. Had she done it a month ago, he would have thought it mockery, the lilac haired woman often having treated him like a child, but now he knew it really was care.

“Don't rely on wise old men that learned to compromise long ago. Live as visionary.The torment of hard decisions is our test and the outcome our only true teacher. You can do this with your own heart's guidance, for it is righteous. I know it is, Your Highness”, she said softly and leaned it, giving him a small kiss before leaving the room.

Once the king-to-be walked downstairs, he told the three men that they were welcome as advisers to The Crown and that he would be honoured if they accept.

“Why this? Do you not think we worked hard enough during our time at the table?”, Michello questioned. “That is the offer your king gives. Accept it or don't”, Jessalyn stated firmly and the blond man tensed. The Freeheart leader was again far too firm and harsh in both choice of words and tone of voice. She was a leader of armies, yes, but definitely no woman of finer interaction.

“Fine, if that is the king's wish, I will act advisor. I just hope you actually manage to get the crown. I am putting myself at risk by coming out of hiding, you know.Adviser is fine, just fine. It will be a hassle to teach an apprentice how to keep the books, but it is probably time either way”, the elder simply agreed. Apparently, he was just as pragmatic as the lilac haired woman when it came to these things.

The other two former councillors nodded their agreement as well and all did they spend the winter's wait together. Everyone gathered before the hearth anew to exchange stories and jest. During the forenoons, Levy helped Laxus practice and went through the material her pupil, Wendy, had issues understanding after a year of hard self studies.

She had made a lot of progress and people around Hargeon already came to her when there were infections or sprains to take care of, the blue haired child without hesitation scraping off flesh and jerking joints back into order with perfectly calculated moves, exactly as she had read it.

Ralph had let her dissect a few of the animals he had in the kitchen and she had surprised him with not cutting around curiously but rather step for step thoroughly following the manual she had memorised. “It's a living thing and it needs my care”, she had explained happily, the inn owner electing not to point out that, technically, it was dead already.

As the snow settled and the training range again was cleared, Jessalyn shooed the soldiers out to practice once more. Almost none of the Fairy Tail Guards had stayed this year, after such a long time wanting to spend some time in their home town, but Lord Dreyar had ensured Jessalyn he wouldn't allow them to slack.

Working out in the cold was a little easier for Levy after having ridden for days and stayed in tents instead of sitting still in the library and bar this year. She still froze so she shook in the thin leather armour, though. Whenever she did not hold her stance, her loyal correct it with an irritated snarl. He stood behind her and urged her sword arm up more. “You know this”, he said and she just leaned back against his warm breath.

After practice, she again cuddled under his large coat to take of the warmth radiating off him. It was so cosy and nice, his strong arms holding her safe as they stood and watched the others finish up before hurrying into the bathhouse.

She really liked the man that was sworn to protect her. He was a secure presence by her side and his care shone through all the time, even when he right out denied it should anyone dare insinuate that he worried. He was only doing this due to his oath. There was absolutely no other reason there.

Moments like these made it obvious that his words were a lie. When he held her close or snarled when she didn't hold her defence, when he didn't mind her shifting closer under warm blankets and watched over her while she read for hours. He was such a teddy bearonce you got to know him.

When the snow melted and the flowers peeked through, greeting the sun in white and yellow smiles, the youngest Freeheart again sat with the group of leaders around a table in the bar. Now there were three official advisor around the young lord and all were in a good mood as they spoke of the last step toward Crocus.

Half the country was behind the Dreyar claim, waving his flag alongside that of Jessalyn and the Freeheart Army. The lilac haired woman would ride out to their closest settlement to the capital and prepare, making sure the people of Crocus knew they are on their way, The aim was not to surprise and threaten anyone after all.

Once Makarov and the Fairy Tail Guards joined them in Hargeon, the rest was to follow for their entry into Mercurius.By the time summer warmed the lands, they would be celebrating in the grand halls of The Crown.

Siegrain offered to ride north and spread the word through some of his old contacts so the shift in power would not come as too much of a shock to the side of Fiore that had not been asked for their opinion and the very next day, he took his horse and left with two soldiers.

The proud former councillor left the main road when he closed in on Mt. Hakobe. The two Freeheart soldiers at his side questioned the turn, but got no answer from the advisor.

When one of them rode up to him to gain his attention, the strategist drew his sword and tugged his horse around, taking the woman by surprise and cutting her from her high steed before spurring his own on and running the blade through the second soldier before she managed to reach for her own sword.

He cleaned the blade on a rag and sheeted it before truing toward Oak Town, riding out straight north to meet with the Phantom Lord, Jose Porla. If the Dreyar did not know to appreciate his services, he would simply turn to a man that did.

No one denied him his rightful place by the table of Mercurius. He had worked his way up the line of command and was supposed to he the High Constable by now, not a lowly advisor to some brat that had never seen true battle and yet through himself able to lead an entire country.

The fool would regret dishonouring him like this. The alleged king-to-be would pay, big time. This last step would be his very last step indeed. Come summer, he would no longer aim for any crown. A well placed ambush, taking thecommand of his army out, would leave the Dreyar on his own.

He had no true claim nor any true power. He didn't even have authority over his own troops. It was pathetic. Never would Siegrain follow a man with such little worth, but the stay in Hargeon had given him all he needed to push the blonde off his high horse, to drop him into the dirt where he belonged.

Reaching the heavily barricaded town of the Phantoms, Siegrain eased into a trot. He stopped at the gate and demanded an audience with the Phantom Lord. He had some information the bandit leader would love to hear.

 

 


	24. The Fall of Heroes

When the last ice melted, Jessalyn lead her troop to their encampment along Crocus Rove, the barricaded village that was so very close to Crocus itself. Levy came with as well, eager to see the grand capital, even if it was only from afar before the rest of the troops would joint them. It was supposed to be an enchanting sight, the tips of Mercurius visible far into the distance over the high stone walls of the city.

Trotting along the uncomfortable cobblestone road for half a day, they followed the slow turn around the woods where Crocus Rove arched its back and the ocean disappeared from view. It was a quiet and calm day, the sun yet weak but already doing its best to warm the frozen ground.

It was here in the middle of nowhere that Jessalyn stopped their caravan, raising an arm to signal halt. Everyone looked around curiously for what had caught her attention. The worry with which she eyed the woods quickly spread. Something was wrong.

Silence suddenly shrouded them as the men and women held their breaths. Only a slight shifting of hooves, a clink of metal here and there, and the banners fluttering violently in the wind were audible on the road. Not a single bird was heard from the woods, not a single voice speaking in the lines.

Rose rode up to Jessalyn's side, holding her reins hard in tension. “What do you see?”, she whispered. “Movement.”

As the word left her mouth, an arrow soared from between the evergreen and caught the leader. Her horse jerked back in surprise at the sudden blurred movement and she fell off the high mount's back.

The second she hit the ground, black armoured men spew from the woods. “For Phantom Lord!”, the call echoed along the road. Siegrain's own family crest was painted onto the black flag that the men proudly carried with them. They had been betrayed from the inside, sold out to the Phantoms and served on a silver platter for slaughter.

The Freeheart leader had detected the ambush before they had entirely ridden into it and on Rose's command, the caravan doubled back, abandoning carts and riding for the shelter of Hargeon as fast as they could, galloping tantivy along the sides of the cobblestone road.

Erigor dropped from his horse at once to stand before the heavily bleeding woman. Jessalyn's hand pressed down around the arrowhead lodged in her throat. Fear was painted onto her face as she coughed blood onto the round cobbles beneath her.

Rose spun her steed around, realising the tip of their caravan was trapped between Phantom horses and well armoured knights. Cobra was at her side in an instant, fighting off the men that tried for her head while she let one well aimed bolt fly, making sure to catch the archer that had dared emerge from between the trees.

His death gave her a surge of glee as Jessalyn slowly died beneath her horse. This kill she indulged in, all principles be damned.

The lilac haired leader's steed was unnerved and edging back from its owner, leaving her exposed but for Erigor's protection. The loyal would not leave her side and if it so cost him his own life. Not even the Freeheart leader's corpse would he give without spilling his own guts beforehand.

Knowing this all too well, Rose drew her sword and focused on getting the rest of their troop out of this death trap instead. She rounded the soldiers and together they fought back in one directed push. The road was littered with corpses when they broke through, and the last surviving Freeheart soldiers galloped back east.

Looking back, she could tell Jessalyn had died, her hand lying limp by her head, no longer trying to repress the heavy flow of blood. Erigor was nowhere to be seen either and she had to declare him dead as well. There was no way he made it out from the round without his horse.

Riding for her life, the redhead felt emptiness grow in her chest. She could see but Cobra and a mere handful of their soldiers in front of her on the road. She prayed and hoped that it was due to may having escaped at once, being far closer to the harbour city than them already, but she knew that was not it.

Levy had to hold on hard as Nyx dashed for the east, struggling to stay steady in her saddle as the Phantoms hunted them. It was a gift that the bandit group did not have many rangers in their lines and that those few were cowardly enough not to ride as far after them along the road.

One had dared it, though, and she was forced to steer her horse into the woods to gain some cover. Gajeel was shocked when his liege suddenly disappeared from view. Panic welled in his chest and he reined his horse at once, meeting the three riders behind him head on.

Standing in the midst of the three slain Phantom's, he looked around himself wide eyed. “Levy! Levy!”, he called for the scholar, but no answer came. His breathing was erratic as more of the black armoured riders neared in. He wouldn't leave without her. No way. Rather would he die than leave without her.

A loud crash sounded from the woods and he heard the teen shriek. Spurring his horse on, rode right through the thicket. Twigs drummed against his armour and he thanked the gods that Hemera stayed so calm and carried him between the trees in a tight slalom.

Spotting the blue hair among the trees, he dropped from the mare's back and fought through the last bushes to reach her. Panting, he stared at the scene before himself, the blunette sitting before a great fire, her eyes wide and own breathing hard.

In the fire that licked up the trees, a disfigured corpse lay, flesh burnt and armour half melted, drops falling from the heavy helmet and large parts of the chest plate having run down, exposing still smouldering skin.

The scholar's daughter stood and closer her eyes, seemingly pouring all her strength into her stance before calling, “Water!” A wave of water materialised before her, washing over the scene and extinguishing the roaring fire, the metal solidifying once more.

Gajeel took another step and she whirled around in shock, her legs almost giving in when she saw who it was. The loyal pulled his visor up and gaped at her in disbelief. “You're a mage?!”, he asked loudly. “Shh!”, she hissed angrily. “We don't know how close they are and that is a secret, you hear me? A secret!”, she stated firmly before whistling in the hope for her horse to hear.

Sure enough, the black steed obediently returned now that the fire was extinguished. The sudden burst of flame had scared it enough to throw her off and make a run for it. She felt a little bad for scaring Nyx like that, but she had little choice when the knight closed in so quickly.

Pulling herself back onto the large steed, she waited for Gajeel to do the same and then rode with him from the woods and out to Hargeon double time.

At the gates, many distorted and blood bathed soldiers just dismounted. The few Fairy Tail guards that had stayed in Hargeon were helping out as best they could. Among them were Jet and Droy, the two swordsmen trying to check the soldiers for injuries according to Wendy's instructions.

A quick glance revealed that the group had reduced two thirds in size in that ambush. Levy felt her stomach turn as the images flooded her mind. It wasn't the corpses that were worst, but the comrades that crawled between horse feet, holding their injuries in agony, the look of fear on their faces when they knew it was over.

She dropped from Nyx's back and leaned against the city walls as she hurled. Gajeel was at her side at once, stroking over her back soothingly. She could feel that he was shaking as well, his hand unsteady on her.

There hadn't been the time to try and save a single one. If you fell, you where dead. The cart drivers had been doomed the second the first arrow flew. There was no way they would have the time to untie a horse to ride from the ambush.

It was only thanks to Jessalyn's hawk eyes that they had managed to get away this well, any at all surviving what would have been a complete death trap had they continued another minute along that road.

Rose too arrived right behind them with her loyal and Levy was relieved at least they had made it. That the redhead was without her best friend at her side made it clear that that their leader was dead after that perfectly aimed arrow.

“Levy! What happened?”, Jet asked shocked as he spotted the blunette by the gate. “We were ambushed. Siegrain joined sides with the Phantom Lord”, the scholar said, her breathing still erratic and her eyes swollen from tears that yet did not dare to fall and block her view.

Curtis pushed through the crowd and helped Rose off her horse. Sadness was obvious in his face before he even asked, “Where are the others?” She shook her head and to clarify added, “Jessalyn is dead.” “No”, Kageyama exhaled in shock. “And Erigor?”, the knight asked worriedly, already knowing the answer before the redhead shook her head a second time.

Laxus stood rooted, not even noticing he was holding his breath until Rose took his arm and he exhaled once more. “Aright?”, the arbalist asked, her expression a serious calm.

Blood was splattered across her armour. He had seen death before, but not in his own lines. It had been an arrow catching an enemy far away or a single man being cut down, not this sort of slaughter. So few had returned. All he managed was to nod a little. The shock of these news sat deep.

Jessalyn had been the one to lead all this. She was the true leader of the Freeheart Army, all titles aside. She had become so important, so close, and now she and her loyal were dead along with far more soldiers than he even knew by name.

The few that had managed to get away dismounted and left their horses to the grooms, the men and women washing the mounts and checking them for injuries. There was a buzzing of talk and crying, sorrow catching up with those that had escaped and more and more of the inhabitants realising they had lost family and friends today. Time almost seemed to have slowed down as people waddled around between the stables and gates in a disoriented heap.

“Everyone! Get to The Hargeon Rest. Right now!”, Rose called her order firmly and many heads turned to her. “Get a fucking move on!”, she demanded sternly, one finger raised toward the city centre, and they finally moved. When most of the remaining force had walked past the first row of houses, she took a hold of Laxus's wrist and turned him around to face her.

Her expression was that of a mother scolding her child as she spoke. “You have to lead us now. Right now is where you have to make your mark. Do you understand that? If you don't make it clear who is in charge right fucking now, this entire operation will fall apart. Your army will leave you if you waver now.”

“It's not like that matters any more”, said the blonde. The cause was lost in the Freeheart leader's death either way. He himself couldn't possibility bring this to and end.

Rose hit him across the face with the back of her hand and his eyes went wide, his cheek flaring up in a deep red after the hard slap. He caught Freed's wrist just in time to stop the swordsman from retributing the attack on his leader. The royal guard stood still, sword half drawn and his expression that of fury as the young lord raised his head again, looking back at the Freeheart woman.

The hotheaded arbalist roared at him in anger, “Doesn't matter?! You might not give a shit, but this matters now, because it mattered to her! You swore to her make Fiore safe once more, not for yourself but for the people, and she gave her life because she believed in that, believed in you! We have come far to damn close to give up now! Now be a fucking king and lead your people!”

“I'm sorry. But can you tell me what the fuck I should do to make this work? How am I supposed to finish this? I don't even have the soldiers' ears. I'm not the leader even if I have the title, Jessalyn was”, Laxus argued.

“You will have your soldiers' ears if you show them you are for real. We are Freehearts. We don't leave because our leader dies. We leave if we don't believe in the cause, even if the leader is still alive. Make us believe in you. Show us that you will take the throne and make Fiore safe once more”, Rose explained calmly but firmly.

“How? I don't even know what I should do now. I'm no strategist”, the Dreyar said. “That is what you have us for. Me, Yajima, Michello, your grandfather and Levy, we will advise you. Now grow some fucking balls and go reassure your soldiers”, Rose all but ordered him, pointing in the general direction of their inn again.

Laxus took a deep breath and turned, walking toward The Hargeon Rest. His mind was racing. He had no idea what he should say to all of them. Reassure. Make them believe in him. Show he was for real. How? Just how?

He walked inside and the gathered crowd went silent at once. He was about to speak when Rose appeared at his side and nudged him to take a stand on one of the tables so all could see him. He stepped up on the sturdy fine wood with his dirty boots, all eyes on him as he raked his mind for the right thing to say.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. What would Levy say? “The Phantoms don't leave anyone”, he said and looked back up. No one as much as shifted in the silent hall, even Ralph having set the glass he always kept scrubbing aside.

“They will not leave us, or anyone for that matter, alone. They think they have us cornered, that they caused our downfall, but we will not take it! We will fight them. We will bring them down, not only for revenge, but for peace. We will finish what Jessalyn set out to do and make sure Fiore is a safe county for every man and woman, for every child and elder. We will have our peace!”, he declared, raising his voice in agitation and anger as he spoke.

He was almost surprised when roar of approval met him. He first then realised he had a tear running down his face. Perhaps it was good thing, showing his true emotion in the face of this cowardly attack.

“We need to strike back quickly and show them they cannot spread back into the south. We have to protect the people and show what our flags mean!”, one of the men agreed loudly. “Or worse, before they think us weak enough to attack Magnolia Town and Hargeon”, Levy said. All eyes turned to her as she spoke the words none of them wanted to even consider.

“We have to make sure our defences are strong while we ride out to drive them back north or our very base will be overrun. It's obvious, is it not?”, she asked, seeming a little bewildered at the reaction and sudden silence. “She's right. They stabbed us right in the heart. We need to be careful. Act quickly, but carefully”, Michello agreed.

Laxus stepped down from the table again and stroked the tear away, not entirely comfortable with this kind of public display of his feelings. Rose smiled a little and praised him as teasingly as ever, “Well done, Lamb.” “I can't understand how you manage to stay so calm”, he commented. “The presence of tears does nothing to ease this loss for me”, she shrugged and walked past him.

Pragmatical emotionless behaviour apparently ran through the Freeheart leaders as a general rule. Maybe it really was a trait to admire in a military leader, the redhead seemingly able to keep on top of the situation even now that someone that had been so close to her had died.

He had heard of the two leading women slitting their comrades' throats themselves when there was no saving them. They would soothe the doomed comrade before the deed, calmly telling them to breathe easy and close their eyes. He could never do that, even when he knew it was to ease their suffering. These years of chaos had to stop as quickly as possible.

Levy lay awake for hours this night, curling together under the thick blanket. They were supposed to be in the encampment on Crocus Rove, not in Hargeon. The last step was supposed to have started, not been crushed. Jessalyn was supposed to lead them, not...

The image of the Freeheart leader's demise flooded her mind again. She had looked so scared, her eyes wide in shock and the hand on her throat desperately trying to hold the wound closed around the arrowhead.

Bleeding out on the very road that was supposed to lead them to the goal of their years of hard work, she had clawed at the hilt of her dagger, not able to draw it with her trembling fingers. Not even Owen had seemed that shocked, that scared, when blood ran from his mouth.

She could only imagine what went through the proud leader's mind in her last moments that had her scramble so. Was it really only the fear of death? She had always seemed so calm about its inevitable approach.

Perhaps she had been frustrated as well, wanting to finish this before leaving? Somehow, Levy wanted to believe that, rather than seeing the strong woman simply panicking.

She jerked as a warm arm came around her mid. Gajeel tugged her close to himself, not saying a word, just holding her tight. He would never admit he did it not solely to calm her but also to ease his own heart.

For a moment, he had truly thought she was gone forever. The scare would probably sit deep for a long time. Never had he felt like this before. Had she not survived, he would have fought until he fell, hoping to catch the man that had taken her from him with his blade before he died himself.

It was perplexing to care this much, scary even. What if she ever truly died? It would be the end of him, even without any threats from Jessalyn or Rose to cut him down. He would not be able to live with that kind of guilt. It was so strange.

 


	25. Harsh Truths

Serena paced along the harbour frantically.

He didn't know what to do. He had joined the Freeheart Army, the cause of the young Lord Dreyar,in order to help secure Fiore. Nadal had joined as well. They were old buddies from back in Crocus, working as city guards and especially taking care of the jail. He couldn't keep quiet after what had happened.

What if? Yes, that is what spun around in his head. What if?

The middle aged man turned yet again and Freed frowned. The round green haired guard would surely walk a dent into the road soon if he kept going like that. Clearing his throat, the royal guard walked up to the pacing man. The man didn't notice him, first stopping when the swordsman called him out.

“Yes?”, he asked bewildered, seeming agitated to have been disrupted. “Are you aright? You've been pacing back and forth for at least fifteen minutes now”, the finely dressed swordsman asked and he tensed up in an instant, his breathing shallow.

He did not know how the Dreyar family would react, especially after what had happened, but he also knew he had to do something before it was too late. It hurt to admit, but he knew in his heart that he had to tell them.

“I...”, he began and the other green haired man listened intently, completely ignoring his comrade Evergreen calling him from the next intersection. “I need to speak with the young Lord Dreyar”, the shorter man finally managed and he nodded. He had no idea what was on the soldier's mind, but he was sure Laxus would hear the nervous man out.

Serena followed the two royal guards into The Hargeon Rest, constantly fiddling with the cuffs of his tunic as to calm his nerves. In the downstairs bar, the king-to-be sat with his third guard, the creepy rogue that always hid his face from the world. Serena wondered if Laxus even knew what the man really looked like under that visor of his.

“This man seeks audience with you”, Freed said and the blond man looked over at the round figure beside his royal guard. The sword at his side indicated that this was one of the soldiers of his army. They had become so many he could not possibility keep track any more.

Nodding, he asked the man to speak and Serena stepped forward nervously. He swallowed hard. “Who are you?”, Laxus asked and he stiffly answered, “Serena, recruit of the Freeheart Army, Sir, eh, Your Highness.”

“What is it then?”, the blond Dreyar wondered. He could not quite place the man's agitation. Was he nervous because he stood before a noble or because of what he was about to say? Or might it perhaps be both?

“I worked in Crocus before the king, eh, former king, died. I was a city guard and worked in the jail under the castle. It was where the worst offenders were kept. I just... Nadal worked there as well. We were comrades for a very long time and...” The man paused, his hands trembling.

“Yes?”, Laxus urged, trying his best to sound soft and just genuinely interested. “Please don't kill him”, the green haired man breathed and he frowned deeply. “Kill whom?”, he asked bewildered.

“Nadal used to mistreat the captives. He would not feed them unless they let him humiliate them and they were forced to call him Master. He even tortured some of them, hit them when they spoke up or bashed his sword hilt against the bars if they dared look up. It is very loud you see, the bars all metal and the stone cells, and it resonates in the room. It is very... cruel. Please don't kill him”, Serena quickly rambled, looking back at the orange eyes of his leader worriedly.

There, he had said it. He knew it was the right thing to do, but why did it feel so wrong? Nadal had really gotten to him as well, hadn't he? He just did not want to cause the execution of his former comrade. Cruel minds like these had to be pointed out to keep the young lord safe. He herewith did his duty. It was now out of his hands, a strangely calming fact.

The men and women sitting close by looked shocked at what the soldier had said. “Thank you for telling me”, Laxus nodded. He stood and motioned his royal guards and Rose with him. Cobra quickly informed the advisers Michello and Yajima of what had happened so they too could help out.

Closing the door behind them, they gathered in Laxus's room to discuss what to do with this new information. “First of all, how do we make sure it is true?”, Laxus asked. “We can't be certain, but there have been rumours and this man seemed genuinely upset about it all. He didn't ask you for a promotion or a harsh sentence, he begged you not to kill the man for his actions”, Rose shrugged.

“If you're wondering what Jessalyn would have done; she would have acted upon it being true and then checked once we reach Crocus, searching for evidence in the reports. Michello always kept the books in good order. If something is amiss, it should show”, she added and the former elder scholar nodded in agreement.

“What should I do then? Cast him out?”, Laxus asked. He hadn't ever been forced to play judge before and was unsure what would be appropriate. An execution was definitely not an option, not even without the guard's plea. He was not going to start his rule with killing suspects, no trial or evidence available.

“We can absolutely not let him go”, Michello stated firmly. “He knows about our inner workings. Siegrain did and he killed some of our best, including Jessalyn. Now we have changed up, but Nadal knows. He cannot be allowed to leave”, Yaijima agreed. He strongly disliked this kind of verdict, but it was too great of a risk to let a man with both knowledge and grudge go at a time like this.

“What should I do then?”, the Dreyar sighed. He took a seat and looked at the round expectantly. “Well, what do you do with criminals?”, Rose asked. “Jail him”, Laxus said. “Is that an order, You Highness?”, she asked and he nodded.

The redhead had never spoked much with him herself before the ambush a few weeks ago, but she was at least as brilliant a leader as Jessalyn had been. She was softer, though, subtler. She manipulated and had her way with words. She even had the king-to-be utter an order without realising it himself until after the fact, instead of simply directly suggesting such a thing.

Then again, he had heard the men talking in the bathhouse about the way she for several years very harshly had ordered Gajeel around, making a point of threatening him whenever she found a reason to. Her helpful way and soft smiles seemed reserved for those she respected, and a Phantom was sure as hell not among them. “I will take care of the rest”, she ensured him and left the room.

When the Fairy Tail Guards joined them in Hargeon and heard the news, it was a shock that rippled through all lines. They had come here in the belief that the lilac haired woman would lead them to crown their new king this year, but now she was dead, just like that.

It was not easy to rebuild the strength of the Freeheart Army, in a few minutes having lost so many valuable fighters. The shock of such sudden death demoralised especially the recruits, but also war worn men and women of both parties in the alliance.

In hours and hours of discussion behind closed doors did the group of leaders try and determine what to do, which steps to take. They had to make sure everyone knew about the death of Jessalyn Freeheart. A lie couldn't possibly give them a stable start. They also had to do their best to convince the people not to loose faith in the Dreyar name. A loss of support would set them back even further.

It was finally decided that the army would ride around the entire taken area, the entirety of southern Fiore, and spread the word of Jessalyn's death as well as the word of their continued determination. They would ask every town for their continued support and make sure the people had heard the message of Laxus Dreyar, not just Jessalyn Freeheart.

“It will work out aright. Jess made sure that you were the name in front, did she not? Someone that believed in her will believe in you, if so due to her words”, Rose encouraged, but the blonde couldn't help fearing the loss of progress this could turn out to be. It had taken four years to gain the trust of the south and he was far from ready to start anew.

The caravan slowly wound its way along a crooked trail, all the way along the border of their lands and then down to the water and back to Hargeon. Due to the ambush, the leading group now rode in the very middle instead of the tip. Guards during the nights were doubled and everyone rode ready for battle.

They could not afford to stay and rest long along the way. Much time had been lost due to the events of the spring. When the temperatures dropped, they had to be back in the harbour city that watched over Akane Bay for winter's wait.

The further they got, the less shocked were the locals by the news. The word was travelling far quicker than them in the once more connected land. Small letters were exchanged between town lords and craftsmen again, just as in old times.

Rose encouraged locals to decrease trade and be careful while Phantom Lord lurked in the shadows, but the commoners seemed to have eased into the calm already, no longer fearing any bandit attacks. To protect the naïve towns, Laxus sorted a few smaller guard troops to stay in cities along the way. They were to accompany any trading caravans that rode far enough to loose sight of their home town.

It was a measure the townspeople ridiculed, but he enforced it nonetheless. This was about preventing death, not keeping face. He was glad Rose agreed with his actions. It ensured him this truly was a good move. The redhead was after all far more experienced than him when it came to these things.

Close to none of the towns and cities denied their support after hearing of the Freeheart leader's demise. Some were quiet about their reasons while others simply stated right to the blonde's face, “If she thought you can do it, wewill trust in that judgement.”

Sadly, Goldenseal was not among the towns that accepted this change in leadership. They felt the Dreyar had not lived up to his word. Laxus felt this to be a highly unfair verdict, but didn't bother discussing it with these people. They had made up their mind long ago.

Returning to Hargeon on the first day of snowfall, he flopped down in one of the broad wooden chairs by the hearth tiredly. It had been an incredibly strenuous year, but they did it. They still had the support he needed and it was now truly his and not Jessalyn's claim. New members had joined again, wanting to help now that it was direly needed.

Next spring, they could repeat the last step. Next spring, they would walk through the gates of Mercurius. It would all be worth it and no one would have died in vain. They would finally be able to bury and mourn their dead properly.

Life was good and the soldiers motivated, training through the coldest month even without the firm green eyes of their former leader on them.

Levy and Wendy didn't slack either, working hard on their own abilities. The blue haired Freeheart caught everything that happened in vivid detail on paper, enumerating everyone that supported them and documenting every death by name, date, age and cause of death, be it mundane as old age or dramatic as an arrow to the throat.

Michello was a strict teacher and mentor, insisting both Levy and little Wendy wrote in finest cursive whatever they did. Be it a scribbled note or a formal document, it was supposed to be in fine cursive letters or he would go on a rant of examples where bad handwriting had caused trouble yet again.

For once, Gajeel didn't let the scholar's daughter keep her secrets. He questioned her about the incident in the woods, demanded to hear how the hell she did that. In whispers, Levy explained it to him, told him about the way she had studied magic in secrecy, but she insisted this had to stay between them, had to stay a secret.

“So no one knows?”, Gajeel asked. “Only you, me and Master Makarov Dreyar”, the blunette nodded. “That's what your sneaking around was about”, the knight said in understanding. He had wondered what the Master of Fairy Tail had to discuss with her behind closed doors.

As for all the times she had disappeared from the library while he was away on the practice range, he had thought she was starting to gain an interest in exploring her own body, that the reason she could sneak away for an hour at a time or was unfocused during her reading was the simple development of a teenager.

Apparently not. This little shrimp was completely engulfed with learning it seemed. Then again, he was quite sure this simply meant she was better at hiding than he would have though. Clever bookworm.

The mood only raised further when spring neared and the ice thinned enough for the first boats to sail out and fish again. It was a calm and sunny day, snow melting off rooftops and running down the streets in streams when a worried guard ran toward the city's largest inn.

He burst in through the door and hurried to the blond leader. “Nadal escaped!”, he panted and the Dreyar's orange eyes went wide. “How?!”, he demand. “The new guard. I don't know what exactly Nadal did, but he managed to trick him somehow. He's dead on his own sword and Nadal is gone”, the guard explained breathlessly before sinking to the ground tiredly, his legs giving in now that he had managed to deliver the message.

“Damit!”, Laxus cursed loudly. Rose took his arm, turning his attention to the sudden silence in the bar. “Lets speak upstairs”, she said and he nodded in agreement, heading after her. Levy too hurried after them, not letting herself be shut out even now that the leaders often spoke in private. Her former contributions made it easy for her to simply join in.

“Do you think he will go to Jose Porla?”, Laxus asked worriedly.Phantom Lord was their greatest foe. Going to them was the absolutely easiest way to cause trouble. The mas was surely after revenge and turning traitor always promised rich compensation.

“It is a possibility. We have to be careful”, Rose sighed. “Did he know anything important?”, the blonde asked, pacing back and forth in agitation. “As was said when we decided to keep him, he knows about our inner organisation, as it looks now, after Jessalyn's death. That is dangerous enough”, answered the redhead.

“He might know about our troops and weapons, about our numbers and training. For all we know, he might have heard of your plan to attempt the last step again this year”, Levy added, worry slipping into her voice as well.

And how right she was. The lilac haired slender man stood at the gates of Oak Town in the melting snow, requesting audience with the Phantom Lord.

 

 


	26. Priorities

The news that came via bird not a month after Nadal's escape where nothing they would have ever anticipated. It made for an awful birthday present for Levy, turning eighteen on this very day. The small celebration was interrupted when a man entered with the message, his expression solemn. He looked around the room for a moment before speaking.

“Phantom Lord have taken Mai. They knew about the tunnel.”

Laxus got out of his chair. “How?!”, he demanded, his voice booming in the bar of The Hargeon Rest.

He had enough of betrayal, enough of setbacks. To be so close and then have every ladder break under you feet was beyond frustrating. He didn't even know how to take back a city that big, that well fortified. He had promised to protect the people of Mai. He didn't even want to think of the soldiers that had been stationed there. They were guaranteed all dead now.

“Someone might have remembered from a few years back when we took back Iris, Ilima and Mai. We used the tunnel to surprise Phantom Lord back then”, Rose suggested. Levy shook her head. “No. Nadal or Siegrain must have know about it.”

“Probably Nadal if they acted first now”, the scholar's daughter added thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”, the redhead wondered. “I was standing outside the entire time. No one fled. Every Phantom that was in Mai on that day died”, the blunette stated coolly.

Discussing what to do about the situation, they were interrupted by another messenger. This one was carrying a note delivered by hand by a rider from the capital where many awaited the Dreyar's arrival already.

Levy accepted the parchment and read the unnecessarily long and polite writing addressed to 'His Highness, the rightful king of Fiore, Laxus Dreyar'. Sighing, she put the paper down. “Jose Porla and the bandits of Phantom Lord have taken Mercurius.”

“They did what now?!”, Laxus asked shocked. “Damn Nadal! I thought it cruel to imprison him, but this only proves that it was right”, he hissed enraged. “Fuck!”, he spat and Rose just raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. “And you kept complaining about Jessalyn's crude way”, she teased.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”, the blonde asked agitated. “Start with cooling down”, the redhead said calmly. “She's right. You need to think on this”, Levy encouraged and he flopped back down in his chair with a huff, tapping his foot as he tried to think of something he could do. He needed to take care for Mai, but he also needed the castle.

“What if he crowns himself?”, he asked. “He probably already has”, Gajeel said and Levy nodded in agreement. From what she had heard, the man was greedy and vain. He was bound to take the crown now that he sat behind the great walls of Mercurius.

“Gods know he will make for a terrible monarch. We need to overthrow him”, Yajima said. Michello huffed at that. “Don't call it such. Don't even acknowledge his claim. We will take the crown and in the process kill the Phantom Lord. Not a word of him being a king or we will have to include him as such in the books”, the adviser grumbled, shaking his head at the disgusting thought of writing that man's name under 'Kings of the Past'.

“First of all we need to take Mai back. That has got to be more important. We promised them our protection”, Laxus said thoughtfully. “But what if he spreads the word of him as king in the meantime?”, Evergreen wondered. It would cause a lot of trouble.

“I don't doubt he will”, Rose shrugged. “But, it's not like we would get there in time even if we rode out this very second. Take back Mai, show the people that you are not just loose talk, then aim for the crown. No one will accept the Phantom Lord on the throne. You will still be welcomed, don't you worry about that”, she encouraged. Both elder advisers nodded in agreement.

When the blonde still looked worried, Levy took her turn to speak. “She is right” The blunette held the letter from Crocus up, calling his attention to the title he had been given. “They will be true to you. Don't worry about that”, she smiled as the Dreyar reread the line a couple of times, the tiniest of smiles tugging at his lips. They had come far indeed.

“Promises should be kept, always. Especially the promise of a king should not ever be questioned”, Levy added and the king-to-be closed his eyes. He leaned back in his chair. Mai it was. What would they need? Army, mounts, provisions, armour, weapons.

He reopened his eyes. “Aren't Mai's gates steel?”, he asked worriedly. “Jupp”, Rose said and the blunette nodded as well. “And we cannot use the tunnel this time”, the redhead added. “Well fuck”, he sighed.

“I think I might have the answer”, Levy said and all eyes turned to her. “When I saw the gates I was quite fascinated and started thinking on what it would take to bring such a structure down. Well, I did a few calculations and sketches, reading up on construction work, materials and such, and the building descriptions of Mai's walls specifically and then looked at...”, she began explaining.

“Get to the point”, Laxus hissed. He sighed as the blunette tensed and added, “Please.” “I wrote down plans for a trebuchet that could destroy the walls where they are weakest”, Levy said. “Are you sure it will work?”, the Dreyar asked. “Do you doubt my calculations?”, the scholar's daughter challenged back and he shook his head. “No. No, I definitively don't. This is brilliant.”

“We can do this, can't we?”, the man smiled. Rose huffed a laugh. “You're the one supposed to assert that we can, Lamb”, she chuckled.

Laxus stood up and climbed onto the nearest table, gaining everyone's attention. “Mai has been taken by Phantom Lord and we are going to teach them a lesson about threading onto our lands! We are riding out as soon as Fairy Tail rendezvous with us!”, he announced.

“Good call”, Rose applauded sarcastically. “What about provisions? We are low after everything that fell into the Phantoms' hands last year. We didn't trade well either and the drought hasn't suddenly stopped”, she asked and the blonde frowned. He sat down on the table and thought hard.

“What about the other harbour cities?”, he asked. “Would be a detour”, Rose shrugged. “If we take ships to Ilima?”, he tried. “We would need more than are in harbour to move that much strength. That means we would have to contact Mid Bugbane, wait for their reply, hope the ships arrive here quickly and then hope the wind magically turns to blow west this early in the year, which is awfully unlikely. Otherwise, riding all the way around is quicker”, the redhead countered.

When he didn't come up with anything else for a few minutes, she teased, “You've got a bit to learn when it comes to leading an army, no?” “No shit”, the blonde hissed back.

“We could take from the villages and towns along the way”, the redhead shrugged. “And there you have the reason the Freeheart Bandits used to be just that, a group of bandits, not guards or soldiers. When the home town cannot produce enough, you have to take other measures”, she added.

“Couldn't we offer them compensation later on?”, the blond leader suggested. He didn't want to steal. “Sure, if you really can back that up. It is not an easy task. The Crown has no money either these days and everything costs”, Rose said.

“What do you suggest then?”, the blonde asked. “I don't suggested anything. This is why I never took the lead. I hate this kind of shit”, the arbalist smiled amused. “Perfect”, Laxus sighed dejected.

They looked up as the round green haired guard that had reported Nadal to them approached the gathering. He twisted the hem of his tunic between his fingers nervously as he requested, “May I come with? I feel like this is my fault.”

“No. Stay here where it is safe. You did the exact right thing. Had he been walking around freely up until now, he would have known far more about our plans. I have to thank you for your help”, Laxus said. “Please”, the guard tried. “No. That is an order”, the blonde stated firmly and the guard nodded. “Understood. Your Highness”, he said and turned away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Rose questioned, “Why not let him? I know he is assigned as Hargeon Guard, but we can just switch him out.” “I need him”, the blonde said. She gave him a questioning look and he elaborated, “He used to work the jail, so he should know how to prevent this kind of escapes later on, and perhaps more importantly, he knows his way around the underground labyrinth of Crocus.”

“Smart”, the redhead said, sounding quite surprised the man had thought of something she had not for once. He just growled at her tone of voice and she gave him an innocent grin, the scar on her forehead again giving her expression that oddly familiar asymmetry.

Levy excused herself and headed after the Hargeon Guard, speaking to him for a moment and then leaving the inn with him. Rose gave the scholar's loyal a questioning look and he just shrugged before following his liege outside.

It was when the rest of the Fairy Tail Guards arrived that Laxus for the first time on his own set words to what had happened. They were at war. Sorrow and worry painted the faces of the men and women he had grown up with and he firmed his voice as he told them the plan.

First of all, they would retake Mai with the help of Levy's siege engine. They would ride to the city and build with the timber found in the same woods. Carts of tools, screws and nails would be needed, and lots and lots of rope.

First when alone with his grandfather did he mentioned the issue of feeding everyone on the way. They could not take too much from Hargeon or the locals would starve instead, which obviously was not the aim. He did not want to raid the villages either. That went against the entire idea of protecting everyone under his flag.

Makarov suggested letting a smaller troop ride before them and encourage all to carry what they could spare to the trail the army would ride down, to hope the people would show their support properly now that it was needed.

Sceptical, but hopeful, the blonde agreed with the plan. He organised these troops from members of the Fairy Tail Guards only. The guards, in contrast to the Freehearts, were specialised on combat in rather small groups and should be fine if they came across any trouble.

The town lord made to return to Magnolia Town with but a few of the guards to hold their position there while his grandchild headed for war. It was hard on him, but he remembered Jessalyn's words well. He was needed here, in his town. That was as true today as it was back then. If the Phantoms dared come down the East Cut River, he would give them a bloody greeting.

He hugged the blonde farewell, praying to the war gods that he would be fine and then mounted up, leaving Hargeon in the middle of the preparations for their attack on Mai.

When the army set out, many seemed wary of the small amount of food on their carts, but no one commented on it loud enough to hear as they left the Harbour city and rode toward Mai. The leading group again rode in the middle of the caravan and everyone was on their toes, wary of any attacks on the way. Phantom Lord had to be expecting this move after all.

Levy could swear one of the masked rogues riding with them was a child. She shook her head. The woman was probably just very short, just as she herself was. Some of the sneaky soldiers were quite an astounding sight, their mantles closed to hide not only their form but all eventual weaponry from curious eyes.

Natsu and his group rode half a day north and perhaps two days in front of the caravan, encouraging everyone to bring all food they could to the trail. Natsu and Gray were not much help with their childish behaviour, but Erza's proud speeches and Lucy's kind request in combination with the cute begging eyes of her dogs seemed to work well.

The relief was great when Laxus saw that his grandfather's plan had worked, villagers and farmers standing by the road with sacks of rice, potatoes and anything else they could give.

He made sure to thank them personally when the goods were loaded onto their carts, telling every little group they met how much this helped them. Some answered with questioning how he planned to retake the city while others just encouragingly cheered them on.

Reaching a larger intersection, they were met by a whole bunch of people, several towns apparently having shared the news with their surrounding villages. They brought a lot of provisions, enough to last the army for four days. It was a most generous gift.

The four town lords spoke with Laxus for a while, ensuring their king they would be fine with what they had left. “We have lived with far too little for years. Don't you worry, My King, we will tighten our belts this year and hope for your success and better times ahead”, one of the men smiled calmly.

Laxus was more than unused to being addressed like this. The people had already given him his title, despite his lack of crown and control. It was their declaration of war. They proudly showed where they stood. He was a king, to them, and soon to all of Fiore.

One of the farmers wives loudly agreed, “That is right! Just bring those bastards down! They rode along here on their way down in their black armour. Scary are they, I tell you. Don't let them get away with it!” Her husband petted her on the shoulder as she realised she had shouted, whispering a small, “Sorry.”

“Uh, its fine”, Laxus said amused. It was very nice to meet all these people again. Some he recognised from their trip around the land last year and others were new to him, but all where they so positive, all did they seem to truly believe in him. It was heart warming.

The children that ran along the caravan seemed very fond of the entire happening, gaping at the heavily armoured knights and asking the soldiers all kinds of intrusive questions. “Why are you dressed so weird?”, a small boy asked, tugging at Bickslow's long skirt.

“Because I'm a rogue”, he answered. “What kind of reason is that?”, the boy questioned unimpressed. Bickslow crouched down by the small brown haired boy and grinned widely. “I will tell you a secret”, he mused.

The boy looked exited, several of the children now gathering around the royal guard to hear it. “See this visor? I wear it as protection, not for myself, but for all those around me”, he began, motioning to the metal covering his face.

“You see, I am cursed”, he said quietly. The children gasped astounded. “Whenever someone looks into my eyes, they loose their soul”, the rogue said, holding his hands out to demonstrate the shock it would cause.

“Liar”, one of the children accused him. “I would never lie”, Bickslow pouted. “Only daemons can take souls. You are no daemon. Besides, all daemons have been banished by the deities ages ago!”, the child stated firmly.

“Want to try it then? Just look back at me”, Bickslow grinned, chuckling manically as he reached for the visor. All of the children shrieked and ran as he tugged at it ever so little and he laughed heartedly.

“You're terrible”, Levy sniggered, looking down and the crouching man from atop her horse. “Hey, stories are best when they're dramatic, no?”, the rogue shrugged innocently. “Why _do_ you wear that thing?”, the blunette asked curiously. “Secret”, he grinned.

Noticing that the scholar's loyal was far enough away, he stepped up to her and motioned her to lean close. She did and he whispered in a flirting tone, “I'll tell you if you visit me in my tent sometime.” The blunette giggled amused. “Dream on”, she teased and he stuck his tongue out jokingly before turning back to his liege.

Rose stood beside the blonde as they oversaw the loading of the goods they had been gifted. “I have to admit, I am impressed, My Lord”, she told him. “Lord, is it now?”, Laxus chuckled. “I doubt a Lamb would have been able to make miracles like this happen”, the redhead shrugged. It was most likely the greatest compliment she could dish without imploding.

“Well, strictly speaking, it was my grandfathers idea”, he admitted. “Might be, but you are the one that made it happen. You chose teams that could convince and managed to build enough trust in these lands to have the people agree to such a tremendous sacrifice. Don't sell yourself short”, the redhead told him seriously. “Do gloat a little”, she teased before leaving him to it.

  



	27. At the Gates of Mai

Reaching the woods before Mai, no one was surprised that Phantoms manned the walls in tight formation. They were ready for an assault, had expected it already. “Make sure the tunnel is unusable. I don't want anyone sneaking around us”, Rose ordered and Cobra, Curtis and a handful of others walked into the woods to find the entrance to the tunnel that wound its way under the walls of Mai.

When the entirety of the caravan had reached their encampment and started building, the group returned from between the trees, not the slightest sweaty or dirty. “That was quick”, Rose said surprised. “They already did the work for us. This side is completely collapsed”, Curtis shrugged and made to set his tent up instead.

“Odd”, Rose mumbled. “It makes sense, doesn't it? The tunnel would have made it easier to take the city back, would it not?”, Laxus asked. “No. Not this time. Not when they are aware of it. The opening in the warehouse is a hard bottle neck. It would have been suicide to use it. And they could possibly have used it to sneak around us”, the redhead explained.

“I would guess they dismissed the thought of using it just as we did and then elected to get it out of the equation. More men for the walls”, Freed suggested. “Probably”, Evergreen agreed and Rose simply shrugged. She was no strategist.

Levy and Gajeel took a spot near Laxus's tent, the loyal insisting that it was a way better area than right beside Rose's tunnel tent, despite the orange tent of the king-to-be casting more shade on their own little one. He could do well without the arbalist's nagging, thank you very much.

“How come you don't invest in a better tent any way?”, he grumbled. He wouldn't mind being able to stand up inside the shelter instead of crawling around. “Then we would need a crate and space on a wagon”, the blunette argued. Gajeel gave a shrug and got back to work.

Levy could surely get that luxury, but he could see that she didn't want to be a burden and didn't see herself as that high ranking. She might not have a title, but in reality, she was at least as important as any of the other advisers and leaders here. Had it not been for her, he doubted the young lord Dreyar would have a clue how to proceed with this battle.

When the camp was starting to look presentable, Bickslow came looking for them, bringing Levy and her loyal back to the leader's tent to lay her plans out on a crate. She had brought the entire book on siege from Hargeon, just in case. The librarian had been somewhat sceptical that she intended to bring the tome outside the city walls, but finally the man had accepted it, seeing the necessity.

Levy pointed to the sketches and explained her calculations in detail. She wanted another opinion and reassurance that the leaders of this operation understood the siege. When she looked back up, she saw that both Laxus and Rose were somewhat lost and sighed.

At least Michello and Yajima seemed to get it, but they were not awfully proficient in mathematics nor construction and had little to add to her explanation. It was well known that the former elder scholar was specialised in history, but she would still have expected him to find flaws in her construct. He always seemed to find errors in everything after all.

“What about the sling? Will it hold the force?”, Freed asked and she looked up at the green haired royal guard in surprise. His brown haired colleague was glancing at the drawings as well while Bickslow was spacing out in a corner.

“I found a writing suggesting that three entwined mooring ropes should hold enough weight. It was used during the war of Seven. What I haven't figured out yet is where we get the weights from”, Levy told them.

Freed made to say something, but then simply glared at Rose. He could not get over the fact that she had struck his liege. It was a disgrace, utterly unacceptable!

“Any large boulders in the area?”, Evergreen asked in his stead and the arbalist nodded. “Sure, a little further into the forest. We could dig them up and tow them here while others build. It's not a problem with this much manpower.” “How big?”, Levy asked and the redhead motioned to the large crate before them. “Perfect”, the blunette grinned.

“This really is quite well executed”, Freed mumbled as he read the descriptions of her siege design. “You can read this kind of stuff?”, asked the blunette surprised. “Mm. I learned it back home”, the green haired man answered vaguely.

After again empty carts and leftover tent cloth had been set up to serve as curtain against curious eyes from the walls, the Freeheart Army got to work, cutting trees down and marching into the woods to gather the boulders entwined in the landscape.

Even with the visual protection, it was obvious they were going to assault with siege when the woods were thinned out. The most important part was that their foes would not be able to tell just what kind of construct was to attack them.

Laxus agreed with the blunette's idea not to use any stairs or grappling hooks whatsoever. If they came too near, boiling water and in the worst case even oil would be poured over their heads, a very painful death. Stones could be thrown down at them and ladders pushed off the wall to have them fall to their deaths.

This was also why a ram would have been risky, the metal gate taking very long to break, if it gave in at all. With a trebuchet, they would bring the walls down from range so their approach only was hindered by rubble, bolts and arrows. With a little luck, they would even be able to ride through the destroyed section and utilise their strong cavalry instead of sending the soldiers in on foot.

The building process was well organised, but still took them a full week. If that brought any benefit, it was that they managed to collect a lot of big stones and boulders, lining them up on wooden beams so they could be rolled to the sling with relative ease.

The real wooden structure didn't look half as fine as on Levy's drawings, but she was sure it would fire aright, the axis well designed and executed. Only the counterbalance box still had to be attached now and Gajeel looked at the large hollow box sceptically.

“What?”, Levy asked. “Why not just tie a boulder to the other side?”, her loyal asked. The entire thing had taken a while to build after all and it only served as weight. “That would not give us enough control over the aim”, Freed complained at once. “If we have a fixed weight, we can't adjust as easily”, the blunette added and Gajeel shrugged, walking toward the building site to get back to work instead.

It really was fascinating that the young woman had managed to design this, had designed this years ago. She had only been eleven. He protected a truly brilliant mind and it prided him. The loyal worked hard as he knew she was watching, standing with her hands resting on her wide hips, her weight balanced out on both feet in a stable stance.

She really had internalised what he had taught her, her entire way of walking and holding herself changing as result of his training. The beautiful cloth hair band was always tied around her head. If she needed to focus, she pulled it further back and tied her hair up tightly so it didn't fall in her face. All in all, she was simply an amazing shrimp, his amazing shrimp.

With trebuchet ready, Levy instructed the building team on the amount of dirt to shovel into the counterbalance box. She had measured the circumference of every boulder and made and estimate to its weight and had an approximation of the weight for a cubic foot of dirt to counterbalance them.

Sadly, foot was a measurement that had no good standard as of yet. It was well defined, but everyone just used their own definition either way, so she couldn't say if everything was quite accurate and had built in quite a few safety buffers into her calculations.

The first boulder would be launched with what she thought was far too little counterbalance so it would land before the walls rather than in the city behind it and then the weight could be adjusted accordingly for the next stone. Their aim was not to ruin the entirety of beautiful Mai after all.

For this task, she would have Freed at her side, double checking her numbers to make sure she did not flunk when it counted. The other two royal guards would ride with Laxus, Rose, Cobra and Curtis into the city itself as the army's commanding troop.

Lahar and Doranbolt would lead the knights and swordsmen respectively while Kageyama would direct the archers, arbalists and the rogues, to ride in last.

Gajeel would of course stay by his liege and the shovelling, reloading and firing would be handled by a troop of soldiers that were well built but not as skilled in combat, as selected by Rose. Elfman, despite his combat skill, would help as well since he was just that ridiculously strong.

Everyone was nervous when night fell. The darkness would shelter their trebuchet from flaming arrows, making it hard to locate. Less sight was also always a protection against archers in general. This was the largest assault any of them had ever participated in and the mood was tense.

In the shadow of their makeshift wall of carts, they readied. Just as the last time Levy stood here, the scrambling or armour and neighing of horses alerted the Phantoms on the walls, doubling their numbers and readying for an attack.

“Where are we aiming?”, Freed asked as he checked their numbers yet again. Even the seasoned fighter was nervous it seemed.

“Left of the gates. There is no larger house behind that piece of wall and it is a little thinner due to the irregularities in its build, there being none of the large stones that stick out on either side on that section”, Levy told him.

“How do you know?”, the green haired man asked. “I was inside after the Freeheart Bandits took this place back seven years ago”, she simply stated. She looked back at the royal guard. “Have you ever seen someone die before you?”, she asked. He just nodded a little, electing not to talk about it.

The cavalrygathered to the left side of the encampment, knights in front, lighter armoured swordsmen behind them and the rangers and rogues last. Once the wall was down, Levy would give the call to cease fire from the trebuchet and the knights would make the first assault, surely under heavy fire of arrows and bolts.

Once they were inside and the Phantoms had to split their attention, the rest would attack. The aim was to bring the mounts over the rubble of the fallen wall, but if a horse shied, one was to leave it and walk inside to ensure their rush didn't loose its force as they spew forth into the roads of Mai.

“Ready?”, Laxus asked loudly. “Ready!”, Levy nodded. The blonde stood before the gathered troops and called out his version of the classic prayer.

“Gods of war be with us as we retake our city from the phantoms that hold it in their clutches. Taurus, lend us your strength. Sagittarius, guide our arrows so they shall hit their mark. Cancer, let every blade strike fast. Leo, guide us through this night. Capricorn, let us shield these people.”

Only slight shifting was heart in the silent night as the soldiers raised their heads to the sky in prayer.

Laxus turned around and gave the order, “Attack!” Levy motioned forward with an arm and Gajeel released the trigger of their large build. The counterbalance fell in a loud thump that shook the ground, and the first boulder was hurled into the night sky.

It landed heavily just short of the walls and Levy flinched as she watched with a monocular. “Good thing we aimed to stay in front of the walls”, she said, handing the optical instrument to Freed. The green haired man took a look as well and tensed. “That was close”, he said surprised.

“A little more weight! Give it twenty shovels or so!”, Levy called and he men got to work, adding to the weight while others rolled the next stone into the sling. Moving it under the construct while others pulled at the thick ropes, they secured the boulder for a second round.

“Ready?”, Levy asked and they moved out of the way demonstratively, Gajeel again taking a hold of the wooden trigger. “Fire!”, the blunette called and another large stone was hurled into the air, the ground near them giving a shudder as the counterbalance fell.

The scholar's daughter watched as the stone flew, reaching the construct. Several of the Phantoms ran for their lives as the boulder ripped through the topmost meter of the wall, creating a prominent dent. “Yes!”, she grinned.

The men on the walls quickly killed the torches to obstruct their aim, but it was by far too late. Levy and Freed had figured their aim out by now. Reloading and firing, they could hear the crash of stone against stone in the distance.

Laxus watched them work with interest. He had never seen this kind of thing first hand. It was quite dangerous work and had to be perfectly coordinated so no workers came to harm. The Phantoms only had two options now; wait for the inevitable attack or come out into the open. He doubted they had the strength for such a move. They would wait for a rush.

He noticed Rose bringing her horse back to the middle of camp as well, stopping just beside him. “Laxus?”, she said and he looked back at her, surprised she for once addressed him by name, no mockery in her voice. Now he was neither Lamb nor Lord, just Laxus.

“Have you ever killed someone?”, she asked and he shook his head. “Then stay on the sidelines”, she said. “Why would I? Am I not supposed to be the moral leader?”, he questioned. “If you freeze up in the middle of the chaos, as many do the first time might I add, you will end up demoralising everyone”, the redhead stated pragmatically. “I see”, he simply nodded.

The thought of running his sword through someone wasn't that scary, but the thought of seeing them fall and bleed out was one he had avoided. He had no idea if he would be shocked, so he didn't argue with her. She had more experience than him with this after all. How often that became obvious this year. It sure didn't make him feel very king-like.

After a while Levy and Freed paused their attack. “A flare!”, the royal guard called. Laxus looked back at the lines of rangers. “Juvia! A flare over the walls, left of the gate!”, he ordered and not much later, the archer fired a brightly burning arrow to give them a moment's sight over the section.

The wall was heavily damaged, but it would yet be impossible to bring horses through. “Less weight!”, the blunette called and again the men shovelled and reloaded. Another five shots and a flare later, Freed and her exchanged a satisfied look and nodded. “Wall is down!”, they called in union and the group of leaders ordered, “Ride out!”

“Ride out!”, Lahar echoed and the knights set into motion, armour sounding loudly as they galloped tantivy from behind the shelters into the night. It was dark and protective visors only obstructed their view further, but Lahar led them on in a speedy pace, knowing where the fire arrow had fallen.

Closing in on the collapsed section, they could see it well enough despite the cloudy night and sparse lighting. Arrows and bolts met them in several thick showers, drumming against armoured knights and horses. The barding did its job and only few fell.

The armour did make it harder for the mounts to jump freely, though, and some had to get off and climb over the large sections of wall that littered the area on their own. They focused on the wall while those that got their horses inside fought on the ground.

Seeing the light signal from Lahar, Doranbolt was the next to call, “Ride out!”, and a second wave galloped toward the city.

Reaching the walls, he ignited his fire as well and Kageyama gave the last call, the commanding troop following tightly. Making it into the city without as much as a single arrow flying toward them, the last troop rushed into scene of blood and death.

Rose tugged her face guard down and screamed her orders, organising the troops that fought into better formations while Laxus stayed at her side, looking around in the chaos wide eyed. It wasn't like he hadn't known war was terrible, but he had not been ready for this after all.

People fell in rows, blood gushing over the paved streets, screams echoing over the clink of metal and horses neighing in panic as they were caught in between, throwing their riders off and dashing to their death. Lights became more plentiful again now, both sides igniting torches to ease their sight in the combat and every flame's reflection dancing in the puddles of blood.

The blonde felt his breathing quicken. Everything around him became like a blur as he watched his soldiers fall from the walls.

He was taken entirely by surprise when Evergreen shot a man down that had aimed his crossbow at the king-to-be. Bickslow had dismounted, calm as can be and elegantly ducking between the large warhorses, taking out anyone that dared come too close to his liege.

Laxus himself took a deep breath when a swordsman ran toward him from the other side. He held his own blade high and as soon as the man came into range, blocked his sword and cut through the gap between helmet and chest plate, exactly as practised.

The black dressed man fell to his knees and slid of the blonde's sword until it was free again, the dead body collapsing back in a highly uncomfortable position. Laxus stared at the blood covered sword and then at the dead Phantom.

He flinched as a panicked mount stepped right on the man's head, the skull cracking in an unsettling crunch. He forced his eyes from the scene, feeling his stomach turning in disgust.

Clearing the walls, the army rode through the city, separating to take all streets at the same time as they rode into the centre. The plaza became their last point of defence. It did not last long when the Freeheart rangers arrived, shooting them down from behind the wall of their armoured comrades.

A soldier at the wall burned the Phantom's Eye flag to cheers of the inhabitants and the workers on the trebuchet rode after into town, passing the dead to reach their victorious comrades. Levy rode to Laxus's side and encouraged, “You ought to hold a speech, My Lord.”

“Like what?”, he asked, his mind awfully blank at the moment as he wasn't sure if he was processing or repressing the images of this night. “Something about this being a free city and no man every taking it as long as you are here to protect it”, the blunette shrugged.

Laxus dismounted and walked into the middle of the square, everyone quieting and turning to him. “Today, we freed the city of Mai from the phantom blight, because every man and woman deserves to live in peace, not fearing any Phantom or other bandit to come knocking, for they all know, if they dare, they die!”, he called and the soldiers happily roared their victory.

He saw the blunette smiling brightly and slowly it settled in him as well. They had done it. They had retaken Mai, the city protected by impassable steel gates, and that without any sneaky passages. He gave her a nod. At least half of this win was due to her alone.

  
  



	28. The Face of Death

Their battle was over. Mai was once more under the protection of the Dreyar family and its proud army. With this quick win, they were bound to surprise the Phantom Lord. Levy's siege had worked wonders on the sturdy walls.

The inhabitants were already gathering outside with them, congratulating and thanking them. They conversed with the soldiers, confirming which guards had died during the sudden attack from the Phantoms. No one had spotted them in the woods. They had not found the tunnel by accident, they had know it would be there before even riding out.

Rushing out from the trading house, they had taken the city within a few swift minutes. Not one of the Freehearts did they spare. Many innocent had died in the process, apparently looking too much like guards.

Those that had flags on their own houses or establishments had been punished hard, beaten bloody in the town square to serve as example for the rest. The children too had suffered during the chaos, having to see these cruel acts and hear the screams of their family members. What damage had been done that day could never be repaired again.

Levy knew all to well what these children had gone through. She hoped they wouldn't hate as she did, would learn to never ever do the same instead, but she knew how strong and festering the hurt was.

The people started clearing the hall to which the Phantom's had taken their valuables and happily shared the food gathered there with the sweaty soldiers that had saved them.

“What do we do with these guys?”, Rose asked, nodding toward the row of seventeen phantoms that had been caught in the aftermath, trying to hide out in the houses. They had been lined up along the walls of an old house, kept alive only in the hope of any information or a bargaining chip.

Laxus highly doubted that any of these guys would be valuable enough to keep. The Phantom Lord wouldn't barter with them.

Noticing a certain lilac haired man among the caught Phantoms, he walked up to the familiar prisoner. He had even gone through the trouble to talk to this man, to explain what he had been accused of and that he was in prison as a safety measure, a trial to be held later on. Now, he was certain that the man truly was guilty as charged. This man was nothing but a dishonourable wrench and a traitor to his army.

The coward had hidden in one of the housings during the battle, not as much as a scratch on him. It was obvious from the fine clothing he had been given that he was at least one of the people in charge in this troop. A leader that didn't dare fight his own battles, pathetic. Laxus would be stronger than that, way stronger than that.

Nadal looked up at him with hard angry eyes. “Satisfied?”, Laxus asked in a bitter tone of voice. “Would be better if you were dead at least”, the traitor spat. The blonde took a deep breath. There was only one thing left to gain here. “How did you know about the tunnel?”, he asked “Freehearts brag too much”, the man answered in a slightly amused sneer.

Laxus inhaled deeply one more time. These men were a danger to him and to the peace. They had caused the death of many and had to go. Not only would the people of Mai be disappointed if he pardoned them, he was sure these bandits would come back to bite him anew if he let them live. “Execute them for treason”, he ordered and turned from the row of captives.

His heart was beating faster as Curtis walked past him and drew his sword to enforce the sentence. He almost wanted to take it back, but he knew he could not risk it.

Levy could see how the blonde flinched when the sword fell the first time. Laxus really was kind of heart. Reminded of her own kill in this place, her cold hearted draw of sword and burning hatred, she admired him for his hesitance. If there had been any doubt before, she now knew she wanted to see him specifically on the throne, despite his utter inexperience.

“Curtis!” Rose ran up to the knight that so suddenly collapsed onto the stone ground. She threw herself down beside him and held his head up, tugging the heavy helmet off to see him choke and twitch, suffocating as his throat swelled up.

“What did you do?!”, she demanded from the captives that were yet alive. None of them answered, either looking scared or satisfied. The redhead held the knight close to her chest, soothing in a shaky voice, “Shhh, shhh okay?”

Never had any of the soldiers seen her cry before, but now drops ran down her cheeks, landing on the man's face as he spasmed.

The redhead drew her dagger. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before ending his suffering. The knight stilled in her arms and bleed over her lap. Rose kept her eyes closed, her jaw clenched as she tried her best to repress her emotions.

“Poison”, Levy breathed. “The ones that hid have poisoned themselves in order not to fear death if they are tortured and it caught him as well when he got in contact with their blood. Cruel, but highly effective”, she analysed shocked. Realising what she just had said, she exclaimed, “Rose! Let go of him and clean off! It's poison!”

The arbalist tried to stand, but stumbled, and Cobra instead came to her with a bucket of water, rinsing the blood off her. She was shaking, hiding her face from the soldiers, and the silence was thick.

Cobra stood up from her after he had made sure she was not affected and drew his sword. Making sure not to dirty himself, he killed the rest of their captives off before quickly washing his hands.

The people of Mai helped clean the soldiers off best they could, bringing water in buckets and working the old iron pumps of the well. Some got rid of their armour in fear of the poison, frantically wiping the blood from the battle off themselves.

Levy walked over to the poisoned knight, inspecting him closely. She had learned a thing or two about medicine too when helping Wendy after all.

Despite the obvious clean cut through his throat, there was a lot to note. His airway was swollen and his face lilac, but Levy was sure enemy blood had only caught on his armour, not met his eyes or lips. The other soldiers seemed fine, so it would come as surprise if this poison went straight through the skin.

She got a hold of a pair of gloves and started peeling the metal full plate off the dead knight. As the pauldrons came off, she noticed a gash on his arm. Someone had managed to stick a sword under his shoulder plate and injured him.

Could this be the cause? Slitting someone's throat caused a huge mess and it would be no surprise if the captives' blood had crept past his armour and to this injury. As she washed it, her analysis was confirmed, the edge of the injury already looking infected. It had to have burned. Curtis probably thought nothing of it since he knew he was injured.

“It doesn't go trough the skin. He was injured beforehand. You only need to worry if you are hurt, if an injury itches or burns”, she called out and the tension among the soldiers fell in an instant. Some sat down in relief, exhaling as the panic left them. Others quickly focused their cleaning efforts to their wounds.

Levy didn't think it necessary to try and explain that most likely only the captives had been poisoned. It was always a good idea to clean wounds after battle to prevent any form of infection or the spreading of disease, so she left them to it.

To think Phantom Lord would utilise this kind of heartless tactics, a poison to be swallowed in case you are questioned so you don't spill any secrets. The men had taken it when they knew they would die, to cause as much trouble as they could. Bastards. The Phantom Lord definitely didn't give two fucks about his bandits.

The bandits, though, seemed more than devoted. Or perhaps they had just been fed with enough lies about the cruelty of their foes. It wouldn't surprise her if Porla had a silver tongue, leading a bandit group that large.

Laxus forced himself to walk over to the scholars daughter and take a look at the dead knight as well. The edge of his wound was swelling, looking highly infected. His throat slit and blood everywhere, the knight's eyes wide in shock even now, it was a gruesome sight. Curtis had not expected to die here, had thought he was already through with the part where his life was in danger.

Rose was still not in control of herself, Cobra at her side, loyal as ever. There was nothing they could do for the arbalist now. She would have to calm down and process this on her own and Cobra was by far better company than any of them at the moment, being the one that knew her the best.

Laxus did wonder, though. Just what had Curtis been to her? He had to be more than just her best friend's loyal for the cool headed woman to lose her calm like this, had to be even more important to her than Jessalyn had been. It had seemed those two were almost like sisters.

He had a nagging suspicion, but he would definitely not ask the emotional torn arbalist about the nature of her relationship with the dead knight right now. It was none of his business whom she loved. The closest thing to a heart to heart he had had with her was the arbalist slapping him across the face and insulting him.

What he needed to focus on right now was facing what had happened in this city. He had not only taken part in but himself orchestrated a bloody battle. He was not going to let the images pass him by. He would look into the face of death as it grinned in these streets tonight.

What kind of man would he be if he didn't? If he let people fight for him and then turned away from the truth of the aftermath? No, that was not the kind of leader he was.

Looking around the central square, he contemplated. He froze during the battle, didn't accomplish much at all. Rose had said this might happen, but he was supposed to be a king. He had to do better. It was all the more reason to take a look around, get used to the blood.

While definitely not comfortable with going alone, he also didn't want to admit that to anyone. He had to seem strong and on top of the situation.

He didn't want his royal guard to know about this weakness either. All three of them had faced this battle with elegance. He knew they would still stay at his side, but couldn't entirely fight off the fear that they might think less of him if they knew how this shook him.

“Levy?”, he said and the blunette looked up at him calmly, seemingly quite used to the sight of death herself. She didn't even hesitate to poke and inspect this poisoned man, was completely collected again after this sudden shock and reasoned as sharply as ever. He had to be able to do the same.

“Come with me”, he ordered and the blunette stood, discarding the blood drenched gloves and walking along after him from the gathering.

The scholar's daughter wondered what the king-to-be wanted from her, leading her through the dim streets and toward the gates where the slaughter had been worst, both Freeheart soldiers and Phantoms littering the entire length of the high stone construct.

A few of the recruits lying here were ones she had met a couple of times in The Hargeon Rest. They had been nice. It was a shame to see them meet the deities this young, but they had all known the toll this war could take before riding into it. Ophiuchus may rest their souls.

The beam that had held the black flag up above the gates still glowed as the fire ate at it. They stopped before the weight that threatened to fall soon.

“What is it you need from me, My Lord?”, Levy wondered. The heavily armoured man looked back at her, so obviously tense and trying to hide it. He seemed to search for the right words to explain himself before simply telling her the truth. “I just feel like I need to see this, but I didn't want to go alone and, well, it doesn't matter as much if you see me choke up since you are no soldier.” It was almost perplexing how easy it was to trust this young woman, but he truly did.

“That's reasonable enough”, the blunette shrugged. She did not mind the statement. It was quite true after all. She would never be in the position where he had to push her moral. She wouldn't look down on the mighty man for this either, and she figured he could guess as much. She knew the horrors of death and she knew he had the luxury not to have met it this closely before.

The blond man looked around among the dead, especially those that had been lost on their side. His face was somewhat pale, but calm. The shock of the battle was settling now and he forced himself to not repress any of it, to take the entirety of this horrific picture in. Levy truly began admiring this young lord. He was inexperienced, but wise in ways that many never learned.

“Can you see how they died?”, she asked in an effort to encourage his exploration. Laxus gave her an odd look. “Each and every one, what was it that killed them? Was it the cut in the arm? The gash on their leg? Something else? What weapon was it?”, the blunette elaborated.

She crouched down beside one of the dead rogues and pulled his mantle aside. A deep cut went across his stomach. Looking back up at the king-to-be, she asked, “And?” “That's quite obvious, isn't it?”, he sighed. “And?”, she encouraged. “He died by a sword, striking across his belly”, the blonde said and she shook her head.

“See how the blood ran down his robes only, not up? He was struck, but still stood afterwards”, the scholar's daughter pointed out. She shifted around a little and then gave a satisfied huff. Turning the man's head a little, she presented the spot where a crossbow bolt had buried itself in his upper back.

“Got his spine, most likely”, Laxus mumbled. He had himself had a crossbow aimed at him today. It was unsettling to see the result that could have given, had not his armour and Evergreen been in the way.

“Probably”, Levy agreed. She smiled a little, glad to see he had allowed himself to be curious. “I think it is honourable to face death when you know it will be a companion, but you ought not let its terrible visage fool you. Stay realistic and watch with open and clear eyes. Don't let the blood blur your vision”, she spoke what she would wish she could do herself.

Blood had not just blured her vision, it had blinded her heart, had stripped her of any empathy for their foes. It was cruel and she was glad the man leading her now was not the same.

She stood back up and watched the orange eyes inspect the bolt stuck in this corpse. “Its not pretty and it is not something you'd want to see, but it is real and it is part of a leader's responsibilities, that's what I think”, she said, showing him that she admired his actions, that she did not find him the least bit weak, quite on the contrary.

Laxus gave a small huff of amusement. “You are quite the mentor, little scholar”, he teased. “I try to be. Since I cannot fight for what I believe in with sword and shining armour like you do, I give my best to aid in other ways”, she smiled.

He had been impressed with her knowledge when he met her the first time, but during the past years the blunette really had grown into a strong and clever woman. She knew just what to say. He didn't doubt she would be able to lead on her own if she wanted, a strategist that stayed on the sidelines and moved chess pieces across the board.

His eyes caught an uncomfortably familiar sight nearby. Walking over to one of the Phantom corpses, he could confirm, it was the man he had met during this battle. As the sound of the skull cracking resonated in his head, he went green and stepped behind a corner.

Levy was surprised as she heard the man hurl. She made a face and followed him, stroking a hand over his arm even though the firm armour was in the way.

Looking down at the mashed man, she asked, “Was this one really so much worse?” Sure, it wasn't exactly appetising to see his brains in the mix, but there were guts spilled all over this place. She had thrown up due to panic and relief after the ambush last year, but this was not quite that scary, Besides, it was an enemy that had faced this painful death, not one of their own.

“I killed him. You don't know how that feels”, Laxus admitted. “I do know”, she said and he looked up in surprise, seeing the blunette almost curiously inspecting the corpse's crushed skull. “You?”, Laxus asked astounded.

“In this very city, I killed a man that was already bound and defenceless. I ran a sword through his stomach. I gave Rose quite a scare with it. His name was Owen. He led his own Phantom troop, the one that killed the people of Aster. I was eleven when I ended his life in turn”, she simply said. Her hazel eyes looked back to him and she gave a small smile.

“I think it's a good thing to hate death, but you ought not feel guilty for striking an enemy down”, she said. Laxus was in a state of shocked bewilderment. “Eleven”, he repeated and she nodded. “I hope you will never hate the way I do”, she added solemnly.

The corpses that had been stacked in the centre of Aster, the animals picking at the rotting flesh for days, the mayor's separated head drying out in the sun and the woman that was added to the heap way too late. Those were things she would never forget, things she would never forgive.

Now it was the Dreyar's turn to see death and smell blood.

Cruel were the responsibilities of a king.

  



	29. "Fire"

After mourning their losses and celebrating their win, the Freeheart Army buried their dead and burned their enemies. It was much like the last time they stood in these streets with their equipment stained by blood.

While the soldiers dug graves and packed, Laxus thought on how he might transport the large siege weapon toward Crocus. The walls of the capital were higher than those of Mai even and this had worked beautifully. The trebuchet had only demolished one or two houses under Levy and Freed's careful handling.

“Why is this thing still standing? Burn it!”, Rose ordered when she saw that the structure was yet untouched. “Burn?”, Laxus protested. “It won’t do us any good any more and leaving it here would be sheer stupid”, the redhead shrugged. “What about the capital?”, the blonde argued. “Not an option”, Levy said at once.

“There is a large tunnel system under Crocus. If we misfire just once, we will eradicate entire districts and that is hardly the goal. Even worse, if we try it on the castle, half the city would sink below the surface. The main part of the labyrinth would collapse under our feet and bringing many of the arms winding all along the northern side of the city down with it”, she explained.

“Serena helped her draw a map over the labyrinth”, Gajeel added, making sure no one dared doubt her words.

“How do we get inside then?”, Evergreen asked worriedly and Rose shrugged, “The hard way, ram the gates and endure whatever Phantom Lord throws at us.” Laxus and all three of his guards sighed aloud at those news and Levy chuckled amused. She turned to watch Kageyama ignite the tar thrown onto the trebuchet.

Seeing the tick wooden beams burn reminded the blunette of her home town again, of the Freeheart Bandits' attack and the burning of the almost finished watch tower. On her watch, such a stupid mistake would never go unnoticed. She knew construction and her siege engine had been a masterpiece. In fact, she was pretty good at this entire war thing, at least on the sidelines.

Once their camp was taken down, they left the harbour city. Laxus made sure they were leaving behind a large enough troop to help clean, rebuild and protect while the army rode for the capital. They did not really expect a second attack on the iron gate city since the main force of Phantom Lord would have to protect Crocus now, but the soldiers were still instructed to create a transitional barricade where the wall lay in ruins.

Riding north, the Freeheart Army turned onto Crocus Rove and Laxus halted their caravan. “Make camp here. We're using the day to go back east and see if we can find anything on the on the ambush site”, he called. He was really starting to get a hang of ordering people around instead of suggesting things for them.

He gathered a troop of fifty men to leave the encampment and ride east to search the area. He himself stayed behind in the large camp on Rose's firm insistence. It would be a disaster if anything happened on the road. Bickslow and Evergreen rode in his stead. He instructed the two of them to look for a belonging of Jessalyn in particular.

It was tradition to bury an item beneath the cenotaph if the burial of a body was not an option, and he was not about to have her corpse lying around the camp until they could reach the castle. Perhaps it was good that he didn't come with them, not really eager to see her dead after having gotten so intimate with her. Surely her body was not much more than a skeleton after all this time, animals and insects having picked it clean.

They had been playing around for a little while after that first time outside Heather, the lilac haired leader visiting him in his room from time to time during the winter's wait, spending the time in a very nice way and warming another through the coldest nights. There was never anything romantic between them, but it was all very intimate nonetheless. He feared that seeing her now would affect him the same way Curtis' death had affected Rose.

When the small troop reached the ambush site, they were met by a long row of simple stone graves. Someone had taken the time to take care of the dead here and it sure as hell weren't their attackers. Searching the area, they found a village beyond the woods that could explain.

They were well hidden and didn't engage in politics, but when the stench of the slaughter reached them, they walked out onto Crocus Rove and dug graves for the dead. It had been a disturbing sight. The corpses had been stripped out of their armour and hung onto stakes, a clear indicator of just what had happened here.

Jessalyn was of course among the mutilated bodies that had been presented this cruelly. She had the Phantom's Eye carved into her stomach, the navel its pupil and her own eyes cut out... Evergreen left her comrade’s side as the village leader got too descriptive. These men were monsters, disgusting foul beings to take joy in such acts.

After listening to the man's gruesome story, Bickslow asked him about possessions of the deceased. “Ah, yes. I figured it would be appreciated once the new king is crowned. We salvaged what we could, but it wasn't much”, the man nodded.

He led the rogue into the small wooden church and handed the crate of trinkets to him. There were bits and pieces of all kinds of things, medallions, cheap bracelets, belt buckles, helmet decorations, feathers and cloth. Among them were also the broken pommel of Erigor's sword and even Jessalyn's fine dagger.

Bickslow was satisfied. He had managed to fulfil his liege's wish. “I'm surprised they didn't loot the dagger”, he mumbled as he inspected the beautifully carved scabbard. “Oh, it was under a horse. They probably didn't see it”, the village leader told him helpfully. “Thanks a thousand times. I am sure the new king will be happy to hear of your village's actions”, the royal guard stated dutifully before taking his leave.

It wasn't much, but the cenotaph would at least have some ground under it. The names of all would be listed at least, even if they could not be represented by an item. And it seemed they had all at least anonymous graves here at the road where they met the deities.

Evergreen looked over the items with interest as well when her comrade rejoined their small troop. Most of this would probably be buried outside the castle walls, under a statue of some sort, but she was sure Laxus would bury Jessalyn's dagger within the gardens of Mercurius. It hadn't gone past her just how well he had gotten to know the lilac haired woman.

As they made to ride back, they found a patch were several old arrows sat among the trees. Every few meters sat a new one, like a moving target had been missed many times over. Evergreen dismounted and walked toward the site, Bickslow right at her heel. She tugged an arrow down and checked the tip. “Cheap iron. Phantom equipment. Its quite old. It could still be from that day”, she analysed.

A bit further away, the trail of arrows stopped, a few sitting further into the thicket. “See that? Someone must have run through here while under fire”, she said and Bickslow nodded. He motioned the men to wait and the two made their way into the woods to search for any additional bodies or items.

Fighting through the thicket for a bit, they found something far beyond what they had been looking for. It was completely perplexing. An area between the trees was burned as if the entirety of the woods had been on fire, the ashes completely black, thick flakes lingering and even the sides of the trees turned to coal.

In the midst of this scene, a corpse lay, flesh chewed off by animals, but the skeleton also damaged by fire. A black painted metal armour had melted all over. Several silvery drops lay among the ashes on the ground, the helmet especially having truly run down the knight's face.

“What in all of Earth Land?”, Evergreen managed. “This has to be magic”, Bickslow said astounded. There was no other logical explanation to this, such a strong fire in the midst of this flowering forest, limited to this small area and containing a corpse. And nothing here had recovered, not a single leaf made its way back through the burned ground.

Someone had killed someone with magical fire here on the day of the ambush. “Do you realise what this means?”, the archer asked happily. The rogue smirked as well. He understood aright. Someone among their army was a mage.

They hurried back to the road and mounted. Telling the rest of the troop to ride easy with the trinkets they had obtained, they dashed back to camp to notify Laxus about their findings.

He stood up in agitation when he saw them return this early, and on their own. He mentally begged there not to be any further bad news.

“Laxus! We found something astonishing!”, Bickslow grinned happily as he jumped off his steed and the blonde exhaled in relief. Not bad new at least. “What did you find that was so important you couldn't wait until this evening?”, he asked sceptically.

When the brown haired archer joined her comrade with an equally exited expression, he was truly curious. “There was a patch in the woods near the ambush that has to have burned under a magical flame. It was a Phantom corpse, but the entire armour was melted around him, yet the fire did not spread at all”, Evergreen told him excitedly. “Magical fire?”, the blonde asked in a deep frown.

Levy tensed as she heard them speak, swallowing hard as Bickslow spelled it out, “Someone among the people that survived that ambush has got to be a mage!”

Gajeel stared down at his boots as not to give them away if he met anyone's eyes and Levy quickly picked the book on siege out of her pack, turning pages nervously. She tried no to, but she glanced up to see the gathered group looking around the camp thoughtfully.

“It has got to be someone literate”, Michello said. “Why is that?”, Evergreen asked curiously. Did the former councillor know something about magic? “When in the Hargeon library, I noticed something odd. I brushed it off, but now it is obvious. The word 'fire' was scorched into one of the desks”, the elder said.

When Laxus's eyes found the blunette that he knew to spend a lot of time writing in the library, she quickly snapped her gaze back to the book in her lap. She was trying her best to look busy, but it seemed she was so terrible at lying even silence gave her away. The Dreyar walked over to her at once, demanding, “You are a mage?!”

Levy knew there was little point in denying it now. “Uh, maybe?”, she said, giving him an innocent smile. “Why didn't you say something? That is incredible!”, the blonde said excitedly. “Well”, she began, closing the book now that she was busted either way. “Lord Dreyar told me to keep it a secret.”

“And rightfully so. This has to be kept quiet”, Yajima said at once. “It is an incredibly powerful asset”, Michello argued. “We cannot risk her like that. This will make her a target if the Phantoms find out!”, the other elder said revolted.

“With that strong fire, she could probably just burn those gates down”, Bickslow said absent-mindedly, still entranced by the fact that there was a mage among them. “That is actually a good idea”, Michello said. “No. Don't you see the danger that kind of stunt would put her in? She is a scholar not a soldier”, Yajima protested loudly.

Levy tensed further as the men argued, talking about how she could make this so much easier, about how she did not belong on the field of battle and by no means had the skill to stand in the front lines as a move of this sort would require her to.

Looking to her loyal, she could see that he too was conflicted. His stance was riggid, like he was expecting to have to fight soon. He could already tell she would do this, couldn't he? He knew her far too well.

“I will do it”, she said.

“What?”, the gathered group asked in one mouth. “I will try to burn the gates for you”, Levy determined, speaking directly to Laxus now. “It will be dangerous. Not only is the front lane no place for a little one like you, you will become an active target”, Yajima argued.

Gajeel stepped before her at that. “Geh, I'm still here. I swore my loyalty to this little shrimp and I'm not about to break that oath. I will protect her. Just give me a proper armour and she _will_ be at the gates”, he grumbled. “That's right. And I am a Freeheart, my size put aside”, Levy said firmly.

“I don't like to admit it, but it really would be helpful. Ramming the gates would take time and it would surely result in many deaths again”, Laxus said. “Yea. Last time we could attack from range, but now... I can save lives with this, can I not?”, the blunette agreed.

She had made her mind up. This time, she would ride as soldier. She would make sure the gates fell and Laxus became king, that Fiore was safe once more. No one would ever suffer like she did again if she had any say in it.

When Rose heard of the new developments, she spent hours trying to change the scholar's mind. She didn't want for the girl they had found alone in Aster all those years ago to die here. It had been like a miracle, the blunette surviving that onslaught. She felt responsible for the girl. But there was no going back for Levy. Someone had to do it and for once she had the power to be that someone.

Riding for the capital, the Freeheart Army was bewildered to find the gates to Crocus wide open. They stayed outside, trying to read the situation when some of the locals came out to them to explain. Phantom Lord had focused their defence on Mercurius alone. There, King Porla, as he had named himself now, awaited their assault.

“They know we can't attack the castle from range. There are probably large amounts of projectiles and boiling fluids gathered on those walls”, Rose said as she looked toward the high tips of the grand castle. “Most probably”, Laxus agreed. He looked to Levy. “Just give me a full plate. I will do it”, she said at once, not giving him the time to start questioning her resolve as well.

She wasn't backing out now. She had known it would dangerous when she agreed to it a day ago and she knew it now. This was going to be her great act of heroism. If she could make sure only few died in the upcoming battle by being one of those few, she would gladly lay down her life. The only possible regret was that Gajeel had been drawn into this, but it was not as if the loyal would accept backing out either. He would not leave her side, and if she so ordered him to. She knew that.

The caravan settled outside of Crocus to camp. They would ride through the first gates and toward the castle after a good nights rest. This was their last step, the final battle before complete defeat or the crowning of a new king.

Sitting down in his tent, Laxus looked over the pommel and dagger that Bickslow and Evergreen had brought back. The rogue had told him about the cruel presentation of the Freeheart leader's body, stripped naked and the Phantom Eye carved into her skin before she was nailed to a wooden spike.

Jose Porla could not be allowed to bear the crown, to rule with this kind of cruelty and fear. Laxus knew he had to stop the Phantom Lord and if it so cost him his own life. This time, he was ready for the battle ahead. This battle was for Jessalyn and all the others, for the people of Fiore.

Setting the trinkets aside, he lay down on his makeshift bed. Anger like he had never known it before boiled in his chest and he caught himself envisioning the death of the Phantom Lord, his fearful expression when he realised he was done for. It wasn't an awfully detailed image since he had never met the man, but it was vivid, the blood and scream, the satisfying dull thud when the man finally hit the floor.

He took a deep breath. This was not a healthy trail of thought, no matter how one looked at it, but it still kept spinning in his head. Somehow, he felt like he could understand Levy better now. This was what she must have felt when she struck down... Owen, was it? An eleven year old girl drawing a sword in revenge. It was a sad thought. He heeded her warning. He didn't want to hate the way she had, the way she perhaps still did.

When the thought just wouldn't leave him, he sought Rose out and sat down with her in her tent to talk. She knew the feeling, herself dreaming of the moment, but she calmly repeated for him what Jessalyn had said about this so many times before, “Don't call upon the fantasy of when the kill takes place or it may corrupt you with a pleasurable murder.”

The former Freeheart leader had surely known what she spoke of, having planed and executed the murder of her own father and her betrothed.

Rose shared her last wine with the Dreyar as they spoke. “It is only natural to seek revenge. I for one have at least two loved ones to avenge on that man”, she said. “Can I ask just what Curtis Holt was to you?”, Laxus asked carefully. “You can, but I will only tell you that he meant a lot to me”, she answered.

She didn't need anyone knowing about her relationship with the man that had been Jessalyn's loyal. That was not very profitable for anyone. It should not be. A loyal could have relationships, but with another Freeheart? It would only cause trouble and was thus not looked kindly upon.

And trouble it did cause. The redhead had never lost her composure in front of the others like that before. She should have stayed on the side of logic and practical thinking instead of following her heart like a fool. It had only caused a deep scar after all.

Hadn't she learnt this lesson last time already? Back then the loss of her love had caused a gash, her body not listening to her properly as she fought the man she once had ridden side by side with. This time it was an emotional scar alone, but a far deeper one. A heart was a foolish thing, incapable of learning from its mistakes.

“Hey Laxus?”, she asked and he looked back at the redhead attentively. “Did you love Jessalyn?”, she asked. “I... no. We were just friends”, he answered. “I'm glad. That means it isn't as deep of a scar for you at least”, Rose said. She smirked a little, teasing, “Not as if you would have had a chance with her even if you had fancied her.”

“Yea, I know”, the blonde said amused. “No way. She did not tell you about her love?”, the redhead asked astounded. “She said that she loved a woman that she lost in the Tower of Heaven”, Laxus said. “No fucking way”, the arbalist said scandalised. “She must have really liked you after all, despite her constant name calling”, she chuckled.

“Name calling?”, Laxus asked. “When you weren't around, you were at first the 'wannabe king' and later the 'blond brat'”, Rose grinned. “Don't take it the wrong way. It just means you're inexperienced and she cared for your safety”, she added in amusement when the blonde frowned.

The arbalists went quiet again, fiddling with the rim of her cup. If he had thought her able of such an emotion, he would have said she looked nervous. “Aright?”, he wondered. Ignoring his question completely, she raised her cup in the air. “For Jessalyn.” “And Curtis and all of Fiore”, Laxus agreed, toasting with her before downing his drink.

  



	30. Before I Die

Levy lay awake in her tent, thinking. It was now or never, the loyal beside her about to fall asleep. If she waited too long, he really would. His breathing was calm and deep already, his eyes closed in relaxation. He looked like such a teddy bear like this, his hair a mess as always and his tunic all askew.

It wasn't like she knew how this would turn out, but she would simply let her curiosity lead the way. It was surely not all that complicated. It was all instincts after all. That's what she had read at least.

She inched closer to the raven haired man, tugging his blanket up a little to let her hand slip under it. His red eyes opened at the touch, watching her bewildered in the dim blue light that made it through the tent cloth. The effect only emphasised the blue hue of her hair further, her eyes open wide to be able to see, and he could feel his heart beat faster.

Levy carefully trailed her hand up his arm and over his chest until he finally questioned, “What are you doing?” “Tomorrow, I might die”, she mumbled. “Hey, I said I'd protect you, didn't I?”, the wild man sneered irritably. “I know, but still, being realistic, I might die”, Levy insisted.

When no answer came, she clarified, “I don't want to die a virgin.” The knight's cheeks flushed in a heavy blush, his body tensing under her hand. “Oy. What are you saying?”, he complained. “What? Do you find me that unattractive?”, Levy asked dispirited. “That's... no, of course not”, he defended, taking her hand and removing it from his upper body.

“Please Gajeel, make me a woman before we assault the capital”, she requested. “I have no right”, he said quietly, avoiding her gaze even though it was quite dark already. “That's hardly your call to make. I find that you are the only one that has the right, protecting me all these years”, the blunette stated, but he didn't see it that way at all.

He had hurt her so much. Had he let her run all those years ago, she would be at some gentle man's side, living a calm life. She would surely be a fine lady, a scholar in her own right, married to a town lord, not a tiny solder about to run head first into the front lines against Phantom Lord at the gates of Mercurius.

“You aren't a virgin yourself, are you?”, she asked and his eyes snapped back to her, startled. “What? No!” “Then why?”, she questioned, a small frown on her forehead. He didn't find her unattractive, he didn't have a partner and he had done this before. What more reasons could there be?

“I just... you're my liege”, he said, trying to find another excuse since she had already taken the issue of his former affiliation and thrown that out in a high arch.

“So?”, she wondered and he just lay tense, having no answer. It wasn't like he didn't find her incredibly attractive with her wide hips and cute face, her sharp mind and kind heart, but those were also all the reasons he felt that he didn't deserve her.

Levy sighed. She had hoped for the wild man she trusted so to be the one to do this, but if he didn't want to, she would have to turn somewhere else. “Fine. I will ask Bickslow then”, she said and sat up. “What?!”, her loyal asked shocked.

“He offered, a good while ago, but I don't think he will turn me down”, she shrugged, a little bewildered that he reacted so strongly to it after having turned her down himself just now. “You can't be serious”, Gjaeel sneered and she crossed her arms over her chest, stating, “Of course I am. I am not dying a virgin.” “You won't die”, the man growled again. He seemed to think she doubted him.

It really wasn't the issue. She knew he would do everything in his power, but they would be standing in the very front. They may very well both die tomorrow. She would love for him to accept her feelings before that, but if he didn't, she would at least not die without experiencing the one thing everyone seemed to hunt so desperately all the time; sex.

She made to get up and was surprised as Gajeel snapped, “Geh, fine! Come here.” “Now all of a sudden?”, she asked amused. “I don't want that creep touching you”, the man defended. “Jealous?”, she mused and chuckled at his irritated huff.

Lying back down, she watched him with interest. “Well?”, she prompted and the wild man took a deep breath before turning. He got up on his hands and knees, leaning over the pretty blunette, her inquisitive look so damn cute.

When he kept hesitating, she sat up and kissed him. Gajeel tensed against her lips. It was definitely the very definition of 'the wrong moment' to think of his former comrade, Laurence, now. When her hands cradled his neck and found hold in his wild mane, he finally relaxed, pushing her down and kissing back.

The feeling of soft skin and the heat of her small body quickly drew him into the happening, licking over her lips lightly to request entrance. They parted and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, inclined to purr as he tasted the evening's wine on her.

The blunette had only recently begun indulging in the red beverage. She had found it disgusting before. But she never drank too much, keeping herself to the same standards she forced on her loyal.

She smelled of earth and horses now, but even with the aroma of travel about her, ink and leather were still the main fragrance of her skin. His magician and scholar, always digging through books, so smart, so brave.

He brought his hands down over her tunic and tugged the firm cloth up her body. He had seen her in only the thin underwear a thousand times, always sleeping beside her, always changing in the same room as her, but today she looked extra delicious in the small amount of cloth.

Nudging her head to the left, he licked over her throat and Levy let her hands rest on his arms. The tunic on him was definitely in the way and she tugged at it in protest. The knight chuckled against her skin before sitting back and pulling the piece of clothing over his head, dropping it to the side.

He reached for his trousers and Levy tensed. Damned be the haunting image of that very motion. How often it had visited her in her nightmares.

Gajeel stopped at once, leaning back over her worriedly. “Levy?”, he asked in a soft and deep voice. “I just... fuck. Lie down”, the blunette managed and the bewildered man turned to lie down beside her instead, watching as the young woman got up and herself pulled at the string that held his trousers up.

Hooking her fingers into the waistline of both trousers and underwear, she carefully pulled the clothes down his legs, her hazel eyes inspecting him curiously. When her gaze wandered over the half hard cock, his strong stomach and finally met his eyes again, she blushed deeply.

To think she had ever considered those eyes scary, unholy even. They where enchanting, so much care and love in them. The only thing scaring her with this man now was the fact he was mortal. Noticing she was staring, she forced her eyes from his, instead looking at the Winged Heart that cast a shadow on them in the light of nightly fires outside.

“Now you can keep going”, she mumbled and flopped back down. It didn't go past her that the loyal frowned at her, but she thought it better not to mention her throughts to him now. “What the hell was that about?”, he asked amused as he pulled the cloth over his feet to get rid of it before resuming his position over her.

When she held her hands over her chest, it hit him. It was something Laurence had done, wasn't it? To sit over her and unbutton. Of course. Shit. He dropped his head against her shoulder, forcing himself not to apologise now, not to ruin the mood completely.

Instead, he just kissed her skin, trailing back up her neck and kissing her on the lips demandingly. He would take all of it away, kissing her until the memory of that man was so vague it did not resurface again.

Fiercely claiming her mouth, he felt her hands again reach for his arms, holding on as she kissed back, those cute eyes closed and her heart beating fast under him. Tracing a hand down to the valley between her breasts, he could feel it flutter.

Bringing his face to the skin instead, he placed another kiss before cupping her small perky breasts and licking over one pink nipple. Levy jerked at the contact, looking almost surprised at the nice sensation. He smirked against her and repeated the tease on the other side before running a hand down her stomach.

Shifting to sit between her legs, he had her spread them around him. Tracing one warm hand up her inner thigh, he looked up to see her bite her lower lip in arousal. Keeping his gaze glued on that expression, he traced over the thin cloth before reaching under it and running his fingers along her labia.

The blunette tensed again at that and he removed his hand, looking at her attentively, waiting until she made a call.

Anger built in the young woman's heart. That man would _not_ take her pleasure! He was not haunting her for a second longer. This was her body, her moment, and he had no place in it. She reached down and pulled the last piece of clothing off, exposing herself entire the man sitting between her legs, the man she trusted more than any other.

Gajeel marvelled at the sight of her naked body, all smooth skin and healthy shape. Diving back to mouth over that very soft skin, he tried again, tracing his fingers over her sex and finally slipping one between her labia and into her, already wet in anticipation.

“Cold”, she complained and he chuckled a small, “Sorry.” He eased the finger further into her, curling it and stroking along her walls while he suckled at a stiff pink nipple. Letting his thumb caressed over her clit at the same time, he drew a small gasp from the kiss swollen lips.

Her heavy breathing and half lidded eyes were very enticing and he soon removed his hand to steady himself against her instead, closing his eyes and groaning as he slid into her warmth. Levy's grip on him tightened and he looked back at her. “Hurts?”, he asked worriedly at the reaction. “Ah, no”, she breathed and he dared move, pulling back slightly to rock against her again and earning a moan.

Sure he hadn't ever heard something as perfect, he let his head rest just beside hers so she breathed right against his ear, every small gasp, hiss and moan reaching him as she answered his thrusting hips.

She could feel her entire body heat, his breath against her skin almost too much, sending shivers down her spine that collided with every wave of pleasure he caused, moving deep inside, one hand lodged between them to rub her while the other arm strained to keep him up over her.

A pressure built and she arched against it, her breathing growing erratic. “Gajeel”, she whined, unable to decide if it was an uncomfortable or perfect sensation. “I got you Shorty”, he moaned and she relaxed back under him, fully trusting in those words. And seconds later, she unravelled in a wave of ecstasy, of pure rapture.

She took a deep breath and blushed as she realised she had screamed her pleasure aloud. Gajeel was grinning down at her happily with those oddly sharp teeth and she pulled him closer again so he wouldn't see her expression, so she could feel his warm skin against her own.

The man picked his movements back up and she breathed with him, his warm large hands finding her broad hips and holding on for leverage as he hunted his own release. She writhed under him when he mouthed at her skin again.

Her small hands travelled up to hold onto his mane and he moaned aloud. He brought himself forward harsher and heard her gasp. Grunting against her neck in a low growl, he reached his jarring climax with the very next thrust, holding her tight as he trembled.

Exhaling satisfied, he sat back up a little and saw her calm and happy expression. “Liked it Shrimp?”, he teased the deflowered woman. “Definitively”, she said breathlessly and he kissed her again, smiling against her lips.

He lay down and pulled her tightly against his chest, tugging a felt over them again. If only he had dared this earlier. She might very well have agreed before this night and he would have spared himself all the secrecy about finding her attractive.

“It was a good call”, she said amused and he chuckled. “Don't talk about it like a strategy, please”, he sighed and the blunette laughed softly. She finally stilled again and nuzzled against him happily, her eyes closing to rest before their big day.

Tomorrow, everything would be decided.

  



	31. The Final Battle

Come morning, everyone prepared for the great deciding battle. The plan was simple. The knights would ride up first. They would protect Levy and make sure she reaches the gate. Once the magician burns the gate, they rush inside. The second and third troop would follow at once and eradicate ever last Phantom within the castle walls.

This time, the rogues were separated from the rest. Levy instructed them her own self. She had read about the secret passages of Mercurius and with the help of Yajima and Michello drawn a map over them.

Kageyama and a few others were to lead groups of thirty rogues each and cover all sneak ways while their comrades took care of the open halls. Once their meeting was adjured, the rogues spread out, sneaking into the city on foot and circling the castle at a great distance to wait for their moment.

The blunette prepared for battle in Rose's tent, the arbalist helping her along with the armour. “It was quite hard to find an armour this tiny, you know”, she teased as she fastened the chest plate. “Are you really sure about this Levy?”, she tried one last time as she tied the last leather strip. “You know I am”, the blunette simply smiled and she sighed. This girl was as stubborn as any of them.

Levy took her helmet and turned around. “Will you do me one favour?”, she requested seriously. “What?”, Rose asked with a small nod. “If I don't come back, don't gut Gajeel”, the scholar said and the redhead sighed. She didn't like it, but if Levy truly died here, she knew it wouldn't be the former Phantom's fault. “Fine”, she agreed and walked ouside with the tiny soldier.

Nyx was saddled and reined, metal barding set onto his back to protect the mount as it carried its rider. One more time, the fine wild mane had been cut. Never had Levy imagined she would be in this situation, riding the black steed into battle, wearing a heavy full plate, only her hands free so she could cast her spell. It didn't work with gauntlets, she had tried.

Hemera was prepared as well and Levy looked to her right, the Freeheart loyal and proud knight Gajeel Redfox putting his helmet on, painted black out of sheer mockery for the Phantoms awaiting them on the high walls of Mercurius.

He looked like back when she had fist laid eyes on him. A tall and broad man dressed in all black full plate armour, one fine sword at his side, like a knight of the devil itself. Unholy red eyes looked out from under the open visor, the few studs visible through it catching the light.

Except this was now her loyal, a man she trusted more than any other, cared for more than any other. He was her black steel knight, the strong and fierce man that would risk everything for her without a second thought.

“Ready Shrimp?”, he asked and she nodded, pulling her visor down. He mirrored her and they stepped up to the horses. Laxus helped the woman up as she was unused to such heavy armour.

“Careful now”, he said and she nodded a little. “Don't worry, Your Highness, I will make sure the gate falls”, she told him and he smiled a little as the by armour dulled voice reached him. “I trust that you will, Levy Freeheart”, he said before leaving her side and pulling his helmet on as he walked back to his royal guards.

Again the three groupings were lined up, knights in the front, swordsmen behind and rangers in the back. With Curtis gone, Rose took charge of the first wave herself, switching her light leather for heavy metal. Despite her reputation as arbalist, she was originally trained as knight. They needed someone experienced in the front, especially now that Levy and Gajeel joined their ranks.

“Care to hold the speech, General?”, Laxus asked the redhead smirked confidently. “I would love to, My King”, she mused, mounting and bringing her horse before the lines of their army. She screamed so everyone could hear, the soldiers silent to allow her voice to travel all along their large gathering.

“Freeheart! You stand here today in your own right! You are here today to take your freedom and future, for it is rightfully yours! Take your glory in our finally battle, for today we write history! Today, the Phantom Lord dies!”, she declared proudly, raising her sword toward the castle demonstratively.

A huge battle cry erupted, the soldiers roaring, weapons bashing against shields and spears meeting the hard ground. They where fired up, ever last one of them. Today was the day. Today meant everything and they would give everything.

Marching through the two great southern gates of Crocus, the troops positioned themselves before the castle of The Crown. All commoners had evacuated the premises, hiding out further away from the central, staying with friends and acquaintances near the walls until this was over.

As the entire Freeheart Army stilled their movement once more, the hight tips of Mercurius were already glistening in the early sun rays. The black dressed men manning the castle wall were all in high spirits as well, confident of their victory.

The distinct lack of siege on the Freehearts' side was ludicrous. How would they aim for the castle without a single ram or ladder? Would they aim to climb? Not that it was impossible, but with the Phantoms on the walls armed with arrows, bolts, stones and oil, they would run to their doom. It was exactly what the men of Phantom Lord had waited for so long.

When there had been no further note from Mai, they had worried the Freeheart Army had taken the city back with large siege engines, but this display of strategy blind leadership was glorious. The men chuckled when the cavalry below set into motion, trotting between the houses of the capital to close in on the great castle.

As soon as they reached the range of the Phantoms, it was denoted by a first shower of arrows and bolts. “Now!”, Lahar called and the knights spurred their horses into a loud gallop, reaching the walls before the rangers could set to a second wave.

Levy and Gajeel waited just as Rose had instructed and avoided the first tumbling stones, landing on knights and throwing them off their horses. The attack was at once backed up with oil that sipped through the gaps in their armour and the soldiers screamed as they tried to scramble back. The horses that were caught in the boiling warmth reared up and desperately tried to flee the tight mass at the walls.

In the seconds calm, Gajeel and Levy forced their way forward and reached the heavy wooded gate. The mage stroked over Nyx's ear shortly before dropping a black cloth over the horse's eyes to ensure it would not shy again. With the cover in place, she brought her hands up, calling, “Fire!”

Nothing happened and she could tell at once it was due to her emotional state. “Levy!”, her loyal called worriedly. “I got it”, she said and closed her eyes. Anger. Hurt. Aster. Mai. Death. Giles. Jessalyn. The screams of the injured solders around them helped greatly and when she reopened her eyes, she was determined. The Phantom Lord would die!

“Fire!”, she roared, her anger seething and a great flame erupting before her. The sudden bright light and explosion of warmth still managed to scare Nyx and she was thrown off the high mount yet again. Scrambling up, she focused on the fire, its reflection dancing in her armour and her eyes.

She held onto her anger, for once allowing herself to take glee in the upcoming slaughter, and the fire gained once more. A proud smirk spread over her face when the heavy wooden barrier was burned out of its hinges and fell into the yard beyond.

A shower of bolts rained from inside the castle and the knights stormed inside, a wave of metal meeting the Phantoms.

It was uncoordinated and hectic. The wait at the walls and the screams of their comrades, all demoralising and making it harder to focus on the rush forward. Soldiers dropped from their mounts and scrambled for the stairs of the high walls, shields held over their heads to protect against falling stones.

Swordsmen spew forth from the fallen gate after them and then the third troop of ranger joined them, arriving just in time to head into the castle itself. These doors were not half as strong and could be forced out of their frame by human strength, or at least by one man's strength.

When Elfman stepped up to the heavy wood, it gave in with ease, almost as if it realised there was no point in holding against the brute. “This is how a man does it!”, he roared proudly as he tossed the door aside and lead their assault on inside.

Rose blew her horn to signal the rogues waiting that now was the time to search all hidden passages and sneaky doors, to find every last Phantom within these walls.

On silent feet, they scurried along the narrow halls that were set into the every thick wall. Tese passages led from one room into the next via hidden panels and curtain hidden doors. These were the escape routes for any royals living in the castle and the discrete movement paths for servants that worked like invisible hands, cleaning rooms when no one watched without the front door ever opening.

They struck down any Phantoms attempting to sneak outside and took out all that hid in the servant chambers and storage rooms while their louder comrades walked along the broad hallways of Mercurius and cornered black armoured men in the pompous halls.

Laxus walked with his soldiers, stomaching the scenes far better than the first time around. This was revenge. This was what he had struggled for. This was the last step that Jessalyn had aimed for over a year ago.

Reaching the throne room, he for the first time laid eyes upon the man that had caused them so much grief, that had murdered and plundered, had fostered slavery and rape. He was a tall and slender man, his green eyes angry, his black hair drawn into a high ponytail and a slim moustache lining his upper lip, curled up in an enraged sneer.

The soldiers of the Freeheart Army clashed with his final defence, the last and most skilled of his troops, and orange and green eyes met over the tumult. The Phantom Lord drew his sword and Laxus readied himself in turn.

As soon as the fight of their soldiers was determined, they too would fight, meeting another head on in a final match to determine the king of Fiore. Or at least that is what Laxus thought until Rose raised her crossbow and with one well aimed shot pinned the finely dressed swordsman to the wall by his shoulder.

His expression contorted into that of fear and pain as he tugged at the bolt, blood staining his fine blue costume.

“Rose!”, Laxus exclaimed shocked. “What? You don't owe him a fair fight. Had it been one, he would be dead on Crocus Rove today, not Jess”, the redhead sneered. Her eyes were filled with a deep satisfaction.

“Don't let him fool you. He might look like a stick, but he is a skilled swordsman and we did not get this far to loose you in some sort of foolish one on one fight”, she said pragmatically as she looked back down at her weapon.

“Besides, it felt really fucking good to finally do that”, she added, calmly reloading just in case she would need to take another shot before this was over.

“You know, you can let him bleed out, I know I wouldn't mind seeing that, but you might wanna cut his head off or something”, she said when she was done, looking back at him with an expectant expression. There was zero remorse in her and Laxus understood all to well why.

He turned back to the Phantom Lord that now sat on his knees by the golden throne, a hand clenched over his left shoulder. She was right. He owed this monster nothing. It was time to end this foolishness.

He stepped toward the Phantom Lord and was mildly surprised as the man rose to his feet. “You will not win this. No one wins against me!”, Jose roared enraged, picking his sword back up with a blood smeared hand and readying for a fight.

The blonde in his shining armour did not ease his pace as he crossed the great hall, the fight around him a surreal blur passing his vision. He was fixed on the man that was his mortal enemy since he had begun his collaboration with the Freehearts, even if he had not know it back then.

This was for Jessalyn, for Fiore and for him. He met the man's blade with his own and shoved him back hard, causing him to stumble and loose his defensive stance. Turning the sword in his hand, Laxus thrust the blade through the man's stomach.

Twist and pull, the Phantom Lord fell dead before him, head hanging down over the first step of the platform that was now his symbol of power, where soon the Fairy Tail flag would proudly declare he was the rightful king of Fiore.

Blood ran down the steps, gathering on every plane before trickling down to the next and finally reaching the fine mosaic that was the floor of the throne room. Following the stream with his gaze, Laxus finally looked up to see but a room swimming in blood. No one was fighting any more, bodies littering the floor.

He raised his sword high and the soldiers cheered. It was dulled not only through his helmet, but his very mind. He felt like under water, everything distorted and wrong, strangely quiet and calm, like time had stopped and waited for him to resurface.

The strain of the past years, all fears and worries, seemed to fall off him in this one kill. His shoulders felt light and his sword weighed nothing. Was this the dangerous satisfaction one could draw from death?

Sliding his visor up, he was thrown back into reality, his royal guards all but jumping at him in exhilaration. “We did it!”, they cheered in unison, holding onto him hard and all smiling over both ears. “Yea, we did”, he said, first now a smile making its way across his face.

  



	32. Never the Same

The gate fell and Levy grinned proudly. She had done it!

The air was knocked out of her when Gajeel threw himself over her, bolts raining against his armour the second the Phantoms behind the fallen door were revealed. “Gajeel”, she winced as his heavy body pressed her down, making it hard to breathe.

The man made to move and fell to his side instead. Levy took his arm to pull him out of the tumult of horses that now rushed the open gate, trampling the remainders of her fire out underneath them, but he just lay heavily on the ground.

“Move!”, she called and he forced her arm from him, motioning her aside. “You have got to be kidding!”, she hissed in anger. She took his arm again, groaning in the effort to force him up a little. “I'm not leaving without you, got it? So move, or we'll die!”, she called.

Gajeel's eyes went wide as the blunette pulled at him with all her might. He couldn't feel half his body, sure he was done for this time, but he needed to get her out of harms way before he closed his eyes and turned over. Forcing himself up on all four, he crawled to the side, finding shelter with the blunette near the walls that were now overrun by Freehearts.

They made it just in time before the swordsmen troop dashed forward, going past them in a blur, the ground shaking under the loud roar of hooves. Levy tugged her loyal's visor up to see why he wasn't answering her and was met with a contorted face, pain obvious in every detail of it.

Bewildered, she searched him for injuries. She couldn't see what caused this until she finally turned him over onto his stomach and saw three bolts sticking out from behind his right knee, having lodged into the small section not covered by metal plates.

“Gajeel”, she breathed shocked. “Hold on okay? Just hold on!”, she said loudly, tugging her own visor up so he would hear her properly. “Just go”, he hissed through clenches teeth. “No!”, she determined and he closed his eyes with a dejected sigh. There was no point arguing with this shrimp it seemed.

As the third and last troop rumbled past them into the castle, Levy was thinking hard. She had read about this, she knew she had. It was somewhere in her head. It had to be. The bolts had to come out before they moved and destroyed more. If they were dirty or poisoned, every second counted.

“Help!”, she called and two of the rogues hidden nearby left their troop, stopping by the mage that was the centre of their operation instead of rushing into battle. “I need bandages, shears and a strong metal scabbard”, Levy said hastily and they rode back to camp, brining the requested items back only a minute later.

They watched worriedly as the blunette cut the straps holding the man's armour together, removing the metal from his leg. She placed the scabbard along the inside of his leg and bound it to him firmly before ripping the cloth of his trousers around the wooden bolts.

She took a deep breath and reached out only to have a small unarmed hand stop her. Looking up, she was more than shocked to find Wendy at her side. The twelve year old knelt down and produced a box of thick cream from her heavy backpack.

“What are you doing here?”, Levy asked baffled. “I've been here the entire time. I was disguised”, the girl smirked. The black cloth wrung around her body was that of a rogue, the hood and face guard now hanging loosely around her neck. It really had been a child that rode with them. “Reckless”, the scholar's daughter said, her voice a mix of disbelief and relief.

Wendy had feared she would be angry and her relief had been great when her sharp minded teacher did not realise it was her that had mixed in with the rogues riding from Hargeon. No one had noticed her slipping into the stables and mounting one of the horses that had lost its rider on Crocus Rove. She might not be a rogue herself, but she was at least sneaky enough to place herself among the specialists without anyone taking notice.

She wanted to see the world and experience all the things the soldiers spoke of with such pride during winter's wait. She wanted to partake and see the development of Fiore with her own eyes as the Freeheart Army settled this dispute, as they crowned a new king.

Ralph was surely worried, but she had left a small note on her bed to tell him she was gone by her own will, thanking him for his care and help.

It had been fascinating to see her teacher work together with the others, organising and utilising her knowledge. That was why Wendy herself would study hard. She wanted to be the one to help with her own skills and mind. One day, she would save lives with what she had learned.

Never had she imagined it would be this soon.

When her teacher cowered over her loyal and prepared to remove the bolts now piercing him with shaking hands, she knew she had to act, to help out with the pain relieving and disinfecting mixture she had created last winter.

She smeared the thick green ointment over the skin between the three wooden bolts and Gajeel groaned in pain. Levy scrambled before him and tugged his helmet and one of his gauntlets off, holding his hand and stroking through his messy sweaty hair as he winced again.

“Find something for him to bite on”, Wendy said and the older blunette looked around. She picked the leather belt form a corpse and forced it between the man's teeth. He looked scared as his red eyes focused on her and levy gave her brightest smile. “It will be okay”, she said encouragingly.

Knowing how strong the man was, she let go of his hand before Wendy took the first bolt in hand, otherwise risking that he might crack her knuckles in his grip when pain shot through him. Gajeel groaned around the leather belt, digging his fingers into the ground, tears running from his eyes as the young healer tugged the first weapon out.

She took a hold of the next and the man couldn't hold still any longer. The two rogues hopped in to help at once, one sitting down on the knight's upper body and the other forcing his leg down hard for the healer to work.

Wendy got back to it and ripped both bolts out before quickly pressing down on the wound. The man sitting over Gajeel's leg took over and shifted his weight onto the injury and after several long moments the bleeding finally eased, all exhaling in relief.

He would live. Levy kissed him on the cheek, nuzzling against it happily despite all dirt. He was going to make it.

The young healer focused on the other knights at once, calling out to the locals to bring water and pour it over the living to ease their burns, to strip them out of their armour and cool their skin. As the battle had progressed into the castle itself, they felt safe enough to follow the girl's instructions, forming lines and handing buckets to another as if there were a great fire.

First when she was sure every last survivor sat upright with water drenched cloth bound over all burns did Wendy return to Levy and Gajeel. “Can you stand?”, she asked the knight and he gave a small grunt before forcing himself up on his arms.

He tried to bring himself up, but the injured leg didn't follow his lead. It almost seemed to hang loose on his knee. “Hang on. Sit”, the young blunette said and ripped the rest of the cloth around his knee open. She felt over the swollen joint. Pressing her fingers down along the leg and stopped as she reached the knee.

“What is it?”, Levy asked. The healer felt over it more softly, carefully retracing the bones, and Gajeel gave a huff, clenching his teeth again. “It's completely shattered”, Wendy said saddened. The knight looked back at her and she affirmed, “This won't heal out. You are going to limp.”

“But! I don't think you have to remove the leg and that is something”, she tried cheerfully. “It is, isn't it?”, the man said, his voice a mix of pain and amusement. What was one to do in this situation other than laugh? He let his head rest back against the warm walls. At least they were alive. At least Levy was alive.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the blood and dirt smeared skin before holding it against his cheek. “Told ya' you'd survive”, he grinned and Levy let herself fall over him, hugging him tight as she cried her sadness and relief, his strong hand tugging her helmet off and ruffling through her hair.

Strangely enough, he was okay with this. He would never be the same again, but he had repaid his debt. This was just fine as long as it had saved Levy from the same or even worse injuries.

Accepting a cane from one of the locals, he managed to get up after a little while, leaning onto the thick wooden stick as he all but hopped after the others past the gates. He was definitely not used to this kind of walking aid, finding it hard to coordinate his fixated led with the staff, but with Levy's help, he managed.

The entire courtyard was littered with corpses and fallen horses. A few women walked among them to check for signs of life, slitting the throats of the mares and stallions that spasmed among the heaps of dead humans.

Arrows could pierce their legs, bolts lodge into their throats. Eyes could be injured and swords could be shoved under the barding to force the mounts down so their rider could be attacked freely. It was cruel, but effective.

The horse that was injured in the process was not guaranteed to die from such an attack and often did they lie scattered over the battlefield, some having managed to get away a little bit before collapsing while others landed under the hooves of the other mounts that trampled across the field.

Now, hard stone forming the ground, a step onto the head was fatal to the mighty warhorses, but only if the hove landed right on the skull, not if it was the neck or nose. Such injuries were a terrible sight and all the reason one needed to draw his sword and take the life of an innocent animal caught between the lines.

Where Nyx and Hemera where, they had no idea. Hopefully the horses would turn up in a day or two, having run out to hide among the houses. Levy tried not to think of it as they walked into the castle.

The halls were drowned in blood, their footsteps sounding as they would on rainy roads, stepping through red puddles and over corpses littering the floor to search for their comrades. In the ghostly silence, only a cheer echoed from further inside. It was a clear sign that the battle was over.

Their pause to bandage the knight had taken so long that the great finale had already passed. The great hall of the throne room was filled with soldiers and Levy only managed to pass trough due to her fame among them, the men and women stepping aside to allow them to reach the bottom of the stairs that led up to the throne's platform.

Laxus stood atop it with his royal guards, sword arm still raised in celebration as the Phantom Lord lay dead at his feet. This marked a new era. One death had begun the years of chaos and one would end it.

A new king would rise and bring peace and prosperity once more. Once the halls were cleaned from blood and bodies, there would be a grand celebration. Times would change and laws would be enforced across the land to ensure to common man's safety again.

Levy kisses her loyal in joy, blood, sweat and dirt smeared as he was, and his eyes went wide. He stared back at the blunette shocked and she giggled happily.

This country would never again be the same.

  



	33. A New King

The cleaning after the great battle of Mercurius was as disgusting as any, the corpses being loaded onto carts to be brought outside the city for burial and burning. The stench of it hung over the city for several long days, the black smoke rising high in the sky and painting the beautiful summer days with ashes and loss.

Children were kept indoors for the week to protect them from both the sight and smell of the aftermath and many avoided the city centre.

The water leaving the city via the long deep channels was dark in colour from both dirt and blood, washed from the halls and streets and forced down the drains with brooms and mops. Many locals helped out best they could, washing clothes and armour, shining swords and working dents out of metal plates.

Some even helped them gather corpses. Especially the horses, the locals took care off, their meat a treat few would abstain just because it came from battle.

The Freeheart Army's arrival had been rumoured over a year ago, but first after the Phantom Lord had settled in their castle had all of Crocus united behind the hope that the Dreyar family would come and take over, would take the crown and bring about peace.

Phantom Lord had been in the capital before, raiding the riches that were left, but during this assault, they had shown no drop of fear, no hint of respect for neither man nor deity. Not one protested against the Phantom being burned without graves.

After a week, Nyx and Hemera turned up again as well, much to Levy and Gajeel's relief. Both horses had scratches, but were otherwise unharmed.

The city shining with freshly cleaned houses and smiling faces once more, the coronation of Laxus Dreyar was announced by well armoured riders, trotting through the city streets proudly and calling the joyous message out to anyone that would listen.

On the day, Makarov and the rest of the Fairy Tail Guards joined them to celebrate. It was a grand ceremony, just as Michello had organised it when Toma E. Fiore himself was crowned, taking over after his father so many years ago.

All the guards, many Freehearts and nobles from around the country had gathered in the throne room. The city lords from Heather, the leaders of Iris, Ilima and Mai and even Lord Draepip had joined with entourage.

Before the golden throne, dressed in finest lilac silk and his trusty sword at his side, Laxus Dreyar knelt. Since the former great priest was gone, Michello held the ceremony. He knew the words by heart after all. It was history, his speciality.

Holding the beautifully ornamented crown high over the blonde's head, he spoke.

“May the twelve gods bless your reign and may the thirteenth look elsewhere.

In the name of Aquarius, may the sea be your friend.

In the name of Taurus, may the winds of battle blow in your favour.

In the name of Virgo, may you be blessed with children.

In the name of Cancer, may your blades strike fast.

In the name of Sagittarius, may your arrows hit their mark.

In the name of Aries, may compassion guide your actions.

In the name of Leo, may light guide your soul.

In the name of Gemini, may you see through illusion.

In the name of Scorpio, may no storms plague you.

In the name of Capricorn, may your strategies be guided by wisdom.

In the name of Libra, may your rule bring balance to Fiore.

In the name of Pisces, may your plates be filled.

In the name of Ophiuchus, may you live long.

In the name of the twelve gods.”

“In the name of the twelve gods”, the gathered group repeated and Michello lowered the crown onto the young man's head.

When he stood, the golden headdress shone in the light of the sun that gleamed through large windows in the bright great hall. He turned, the rubies giving a shimmer, and Levy smiled brightly as their eyes met for a second.

Years ago, he had seemed unsure about how to act, what to say, if he was kingly enough. Now that he stood here before them, he definitely was a king in his own right.

He sat back on the throne stiffly and Michello declared loudly, “Kneel before the king of Fiore, Laxus Dreyar the first!” He knelt down himself and all attending nobles and soldiers did the same, lowering their heads to signal their willing obedience to their new sovereign.

There being no one left from the former ruler to come up and swear their new allegiance with the change of king, the entire ceremony went awfully quick, but a few people did step up on the plateau to present him with different items.

A fine sword from the smitheries of Crocus to serve him well in upcoming battles, the finest robe the wavers and seamstresses of Mid Bugbane could manage, detailed beyond anything he had ever laid eyes upon, to wear during formal ceremonies in the future, and a masterfully created Fairy Tail Crest to hang over his throne were just a few of the fine presents he was given and he thanked each group graciously.

It was all a bit much if he was asked, but he appreciated it all immensely. When someone he knew very well walked to the front, he was curious. Levy Freeheart stood before him with a heavy black coat folded together in her arms.

She looked down at the firm cloth and took a deep breath before speaking.

“This coat was that of the mayor of my home town, Aster. I don't even know his true name. To us children he was always just 'Mayor', a strong and righteous man, a man of honour.

He was not appointed by any lord or councillor, nor was he himself any lord. He was simply chosen by the people of Aster because of his devotion, his trustworthy ways and determination to protect us against whatever may come.

Thirteen years into the chaos left after Toma E. Fiore's death, Phantom Lord attacked us, slaughtering all, even the priest of Aster Church, his blood decorating the wooden doors of the gods' house.

The elders, women and children, none were spared. I was the only one that survived, being held captive in the mayor's old house. The mayor himself was set up as bloody trophy, his head on a spike in the town square that I used to play in.

He knew this would come to pass, that he would die there, but he did not run, did not hide as any other man his age would have. He was past sixty five at this point, still holding his head high in defence of his town against an overwhelming foe.

First when the Freeheart Army reached Aster was I free once more, free to put my trust in a new man, one filled with devotion, care and the will to protect, a righteous man, a man of honour.

Now that my king finally sits on the throne, I wish to present the coat of the mayor of Aster to him to show he sits here rightfully today, to give a symbol that he is chosen by the people just as our mayor was, that he is trusted by us to lead this country into peace once more so that no child shall suffer what I suffered.”

The gathered men and women applauded when she held the coat out to mark the end of her speech. It had moved the crowd and Laxus couldn't deny, him as well. He stood and accepted the gift. “Thank you Levy. I feel honoured, truly. I will remember your words as I wear it.”

Michello took a step from beside the throne and walked up to the two of them, hinting, “Levy would surely make a good queen, wouldn't you agree? A strong mage at the kings side is always a good look.”

Laxus tensed. He had someone else entirely in mind, but he could hardly refuse the blue haired woman that had practically won the two great battles for them and had put him on this throne the honour of sharing it with him.

Levy sniggered a little. “Why thank you, but I only wish to live as scholar, as my father raised me”, she waved it off. “You can still study as queen”, Michello tried, the old man knowing all too well how strong of a union this could be, but the blunette shook her head yet again and Laxus forced himself not to exhale in relief. It would be far too rude.

Clearing his throat, he instead requested, “Levy Freeheart, would you be willing to sit by my table as the first female councillor of Fiore, as the chair and my foremost advisor?” Levy looked surprised and a smile spread over her lips. “It would be me a great honour, Your Highness”, she accepted, bowing her head ever so slightly.

“Then you shall be known as Levy, Lady Freeheart, Chair of The Crown”, he declared. “On this note, Rose Freeheart, would you come to me?”, he called out and the redhead walked up two steps and looked up at the king curiously.

Levy chuckled a little, the older Freeheart never bowing, not even for her own chosen ruler. “I intended to offer Jessalyn Freeheart this position, but since she was taken to Ophiuchus before I could, I now ask you, Rose Freeheart. Would you serve me as commander-in-chief and lead the royal army of Fiore?”, the king asked.

“I would, if I was allowed to pick my own generals, disregarding nobility”, she said and he nodded, “Of course. Those you choose would simply rise into nobility due to their position, just as you would.” “Then I accept”, Rose smirked and Laxus officially declared, “Then you shall now be knows as Rose, Lady Freeheart, High Constable of The Crown.”

It was still quite odd to him to have to say everything this way and make such strong distinctions between what he says and what he orders, but the time he had spent leading the Freeheart Army had helped him prepare for it alight.

“Seems like there will be a lot of Freehearts among the nobles soon”, Rose smirked and the blond man forced back a snigger as he dismissed the two women that just had risen into nobility by his hand.

Him, his royal guard, the generals that Rose would select and the councillors that he would tell Levy to choose, together with the town and city lords, they would form the new nobility of Fiore and build a better future for everyone.

After the attending men and women had feasted outdoors at long tables groaning with platters of meat and fruit and plenty of wine, the first left to return to their duties.

Lord Dreyar left the very same day for Magnolia Town with but a handful of the Fairy Tail Guards. Most wanted to stay and enjoy the capital for a little longer before returning to the home town they knew so very well. It was too early for homesickness, but the town lord needed return.

The old man Yajima left as well, taking a cart to Mid Bugbane to start a restaurant, something he had apparently been wanting to do for years. The only former members of the castle staff that stayed were Lahar, Doranbolt and Michello, all three thus taking important advisory roles, but as he had vowed, none of them taking place at his table.

There was one woman that announced she would love to return to her post as well. She was the former main maid of Mercurius and knew how to lead and organise the entire cleaning and cooking staff. Laxus happily gave her the position and she smiled over both ears.

Halls where suddenly clean again and the servants that slowly but surely were brought into service worked like a hundred hands with one mind.

Levy seemed quite fascinated with the main maid and began writing a manual based on her explanations and principles. She ensured the king she would not slip behind in her work for him due to it and proudly declared that she would finish her documentation of his quest for the throne within the month. This of course meant he would have to read it.

Sitting with her loyal in the large flowering place gardens, she worked on just that, making sure her hand writing held even Michello's standard. Gajeel frowned deeply long enough to have the scholar look up questioningly. He just shrugged, but she set her feather down and crossed her arms over her chest. If he hesitated any longer now, she would make it a vocal order.

“Why didn't you accept to be queen? It'd be a great honour and you'd live in luxury”, the wild man finally asked. “I will live in luxury either way as the chair”, Levy argued. “Still”, he grumbled.

He couldn't understand her reasons. It was the highest possible position. Why would anyone say no to that? It's not like she would be forced to stop her work as scholar. She would have been forced to make a few appearances here and there, but otherwise. The king was a good looking guy after all.

He looked up in surprise as her soft hand found his on the broad wooden bench. She kept her gaze on their joined hands and stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, retracing a small scar. “I have a different man in my mind”, she told him and his eyes went wide. “What?”, was all he managed and she chuckled amused.

“Why did you think I wanted you to take my innocence?”, she asked. “'Cause you thought you'd die”, he grumbled and she shook her head. “It was likely, but that's only why I wanted to loose it that very night. I had long before decided that I wanted it to be you”, she admitted.

“Why would you care for an old, crippled guy like me?”, the middle aged man asked bewildered. “Why would you care for a little shrimp like me?”, the blue haired woman countered. “Geh, you're a tough one, Lill' Mage”, he teased, pulling her just a little tighter against himself and kissing her deeply.

“Until death takes me”, he whispered against her lips. “Mm. Don't you dare be reckless then”, she teased.

  



	34. The Queen of Fiore

Once the capital was in somewhat order, King Laxus Dreyar held his first meeting with the less than complete table of Councillors, and his High Constable, Rose, Lady Freeheart. The chair, Levy, Lady Freeheart, stood and silence fell in the hall, even Gajeel and the royal guards that stood by the door quieting respectfully.

The young woman huffed a laugh and smiled, “This is so weird.” Laxus tried to repress his smirk of amusement, but failed at it and figured it was just as well, this perhaps setting the exact right tone for their future collaboration.

The blunette cleared her throat and began enumerating what needed be done to establish a proper government again. They needed to find more members for the table, three being a little sparse to express it carefully.

They needed an army. There kind of was one, as in the Freeheart Army, but he still needed to officially make this his royal army to support his claim. Rose nodded, ensuring she had it under control and was only thinking on which of the men and women she wanted as generals before she would come to the chair to formulate a written order.

Levy explained that they would need to bring the word out especially toward the north and make sure everyone knew about the new king and the re-establishment of the Scholarship of The Crown so scholars and mages from all around Fiore would come back to the capital. This would also coax a few more to the royal army and city guard, positions that needed to be filled quickly for a smooth transition.

Laxus was quite impressed how well she had thought all of this through. Was there some kind of book about establishing a kingdom? She seemed to have some form of step by step manual in her head. He had definitely chosen the right person as chair and main advisor.

The blunette hinted a few changes that would need to be made in the former laws before they officially declared that these should apply and talked about a possible future renovation of Crocus Rove to enable quicker and safer trade via the capital, several large trading caravans before the Years of Chaos having passed Crocus by on their travels due to the terrible cobblestone road.

He could see that she had several thickly ink covered pages on the subject but elected not to go into them at the time seeing as this was, as she formulated it, “a thought for safe and prosperous times, but good to have in mind.”

When the meeting was over, Rose motioned for Laxus to stay and when Levy and her loyal had passed the heavy doors, she explained, “I need to speak with you. Alone” Laxus gave his guards a nod and they left the chambers as well, waiting just outside.

“What is it?”, the king asked. “It is about Jessalyn's death. I didn't tell you back then, because I didn't know how you would react and didn't want to risk anything, but I think you should know. She was pregnant”, Rose told him.

The blonde looked back at her wide eyed and she just gave a small nod to answer his inaudible question. Yes, it had to be his. The redhead got up and huffed a small laugh, smiling, “She claimed it had to be a girl. She was to be named Lilithien.”

Looking back at her liege, she added, “I just thought you ought to know. I'm sorry for your loss, Your Highness”, before leaving him alone. Laxus rested his head on a hand and closed his eyes. This, he would need some time to process. He had a child and now it was dead. Avenged, but dead nonetheless. “Lilithien”, he muttered.

It was but a week later that the memorial for the fallen soldiers of the war was held. Numerous named wooden headstones where ceremonially burned in the central plaza of Crocus, a large stone statue being raised at the same time in one of the grand gardens.

The deaths of the past year on Crocus Rove were honoured by a smaller cenotaph in the palace gardens, the trinkets they had retrieved buried underneath it just as the helmets of their fallen soldier's had been buried under the memorial statue.

During the ceremony, Laxus read a prayer to the dead and after it, he headed into the caslte gardens and did the same by the memorial for the ambush, this time only his royal guards and Rose with him. In tiny letters, numerous names where listed on the stone's front and back. Erigor and hundreds others.

Once he was done, he walked further into the garden to a small headstone that had been raised right by the high walls. Stopping by it, he bowed his head to pray a third time. He usually never called upon the gods but for appearance’s sake, their presence silent in all aspects of life, but today, it seemed appropriate.

The headstone was plain, even the writing on it clean and simple. “Here lies the honourable Jessalyn Freeheart, first High Constable of the Freeheart Army, and Lilithien Dreyar Freeheart, never born.” “Does this mean you wish for Levy to include Lilithien in the books?”, Rose asked and Laxus nodded his affirmation. He stroked a hand over the grey stone. “Tsk, Jessalyn. Why didn't you tell me?”

“If I may, I think she kept it quiet so you could marry the woman you love”, his High Constable smiled. “She told you about that?”, Laxus asked. He didn't know quite what to make of that. He had entrusted this information to the now dead woman as a secret.

“You may not know, but we were not, as everyone says, 'like sisters', but we actually were sisters, half sisters. I'm a bastard of Lord Freeheart, city lord of Akane. I was born to a whore and when Jessalyn found out about me, she sought me out and freed me and the others from our owner”, the redhead told him.

He was genuinely surprised. They had never spoken a word of it. Then again, why would they? “Don't worry, no one else knows of it, Your Highness”, the redhead smiled. When he didn't say anything, she added, “You really ought to go tell your bartender, tough, before someone else steals her heart”, and gave him a small wink before leaving.

“You're in love with Mira?”, Bickslow asked astounded. “Shut it”, Laxus hissed and he laughed heartedly. “You need to go tell her already!”, the rogue cheered. “You really should, if you love her”, Freed nodded seriously and Evergreen just smiled at him with a meaning look. “Yea, yea, I will, okay?”, the king said defensively.

When he told his now a little more populated table that he would leave for Magnolia Town for a short time, Rose smiled brightly, agreeing that it was a good idea loudly so none of the new members could protest.

She told Cobra about it as well, urging him to go with. “Don't you worry about me, Loyal. I'm the High Constable after all and have an entire army to back me”, she joked as he hesitated and he finally agreed to leave with the king and his royal guard.

The Fairy Tail Guards took this same opportunity to leave. They had planed to make the trip in the following week, but now that Laxus would ride out, they accompanied him back.

The redhead organised a party of her best soldiers to accompany and protect the king on the road and the small group set out along Crocus Rove, first turning off the bumpy cobblestone road when they closed in on the small but fine town.

The cheers of the people could be heard already when they rode down the hill and into town, everyone welcoming their new king on his visit back to his home town. The entire avenue through town and toward the Fairy Tail Caste was lined with celebrating citizens and Laxus smiled at them, not to seem burdened.

Cobra rested a hand over the hair band he had received from Kinana so long ago. He was returning, alive, just as I promised. His face lit up he spotted her outside the Fairy Tail Castle and she ran up to him at once as she saw him.

He dropped from his steed and hugged her happily. “Sorry it took so long”, he smiled and she just kept her face against his coat, so relieved he actually still lived, that he had honoured his vow and returned to see her once the new king was crowned.

“Are you staying now?”, she asked quietly. She looked up at him through hopeful green eyes, but he shook his head. “I am sworn to the High Constable of The Crown. I have to return to her side”, he said. When she didn't seem to understand quite what he meant, he clarified, “I would like you to come back to Crocus with me.”

“Me? In Crocus?”, the lilac haired woman asked shocked. “Yea. You are and incredible seamstresses. That much is obvious from this”, the swordsman said, tugging his collard down a little to show the ribbon, somewhat abused now, but its initial beauty still obvious. “You wouldn't have any trouble finding good work in the capital”, he finished.

Kinana looked back to her friends shortly before nodding in agreement. She would go with the man that had haunted her dreams, who had whispered his care through the nights even when she didn't know just who he was. Reedus and Laki would surely understand. Perhaps they would come with. They were very skilled and would not have any issue finding work in Crocus if they wanted.

Laxus and the Fairy Tail Guards strode into the castle in the meantime, the ones that had stayed greeting them in a loud roar of joy, friends hugging and exited mouths talking over another heads in a burr of 'welcome back' and 'I missed you'.

The blonde walked up to his grandfather and chuckled as the elder couldn't hold his tears back. He had been sure he wouldn't see his grandchild for at least a year. “Don't get the floor wet”, the king teased and he broke down, sobbing happily and hugging the blonde warmly.

There was no silence as the guards went from greeting to celebrating, making a raucous and throwing both chairs and tables around the large assembly hall and bar. “Right at home”, Bickslow laughed happily, throwing himself into the mix with a wide grin.

Laxus enjoyed their return as well, but his mind was at the ride back to Crocus already. He would have to leave most of the people he had grown up with behind again. His royal guard would surely return to the capital with him, but the rest would stay here and protect the east.

He let himself be questioned about the work in the capital, his slowly growing council, the memorial and his future plans. He also told his grandfather about Lilithien and the elder too seemed sad to hear his great-grandchild was never born.

When Mirajane passed their table to serve the next round, Laxus took heart. Both Jessalyn and Rose were right. Here he was, king of Fiore. He should at least have the balls to ask her. If she said no, he knew and could try and find someone else he might fall in love with.

“Mira”, he said and she stopped, smiling happily, “What is it, Your Highness?” “Don't”, he sighed and she sniggered. “Do you want another drink Laxus?”, the bartender asked. “No. I wanted to ask you something”, he said, but the inquisitive look on her pretty face did not make it easier to continue.

He cleared his throat and quickly said, “I have liked you for a while and now wonder if you would come back to Crocus with me and be my queen.” The surprised shock on her face and sudden silence in the hall had him cringe. It was an incredibly uncomfortable few seconds before her lips curled up.

“I'd love to”, she smiled and he let out a breath he hadn't realised he held. The bartender hugged him tight and kissed him and he could feel his heart flutter. She really wanted to come with him, liked him as well. Kissing back, he grinned over both ears like a goof and Lord Dreyar burst into tears a second time this day.

The festive mood only gained further by this love confession, the bartender's little sister taking over for her so she could sit with her future husband instead and celebrate that the dream she had long ago thrown into the wind had come true.

She had been sure the chance had passed when the blonde set out to become a king, that he would find some fine lady to court and build a strong family with, but it seemed her feelings had not been one sided.

When they left for Crocus, both Kinana and Mirajane came with the troop of Freeheart Army soldiers. The king, Rose's loyal and the three royal guards where the only others trotting along the long road to the capital.

Riding over the cobblestone road a second time, Laxus could tell why Levy had suggested a renovation of the broad Crocus Rove. Their own army had been large and slow, but a small trading caravan had to ride slow here as well due to the uneven ground if they did not want to risk cartwheels breaking or horses injuring themselves.

The blunette had said something about messengers riding beside the road. It really seemed like the only sane option for a rider in a hurry. The road itself was a catastrophe. He would definitely keep it in mind for when he had sorted everything else out properly.

Returning to the castle, he showed his betrothed to her chambers. For now, they could not yet share. It would be a scandal. She was supposed to be a lady now, living in Mercurius and wearing only the finest silk.

On advise of Michello, they arranged their wedding not even two months later, the old man firmly stating that it would give their kingdom more stability if the king was married. He also stated that a child would be good and both Rose and Levy laughed heartedly as the soon to be wed pair blushed deeply at his crude words.

Long before the wedding was due, Laxus lead Mirajane to the grave of Jessalyn and his child. He wanted her to know about it before she decided to spend her life with him, but the former bartender didn't seem to think anything of it.

“Did you love her?”, she asked curiously as she inspected the cenotaph. “I did, but not that way. We were close, but not like that. Its complicated”, he tried to answer. “I see”, she nodded. “Its a shame”, she added and held a hand on the small headstone. “May Ophiuchus rest their souls”, she prayed.

That Laxus had been with another came as no surprise to her. He was a man, a soldier on the move. Of course he didn't stay chaste. Who did, really? That this had resulted in a child was not an issue to her either. It was just sad to hear these two were now dead. She would have loved to get to know them. Jessalyn had seemed like quite a personality.

The wedding of Mirajane and Laxus Dreyar was a grand event and the entire Fairy Tail Guards took the opportunity to visit Crocus again. The ceremony was held inside the throne room before the newly wed pair met the people.

The new queen stood beside her king on the high balcony out toward the grand plaza and the citizens cheered their congratulations and well wishes. They looked truly royal as they stood in the wind, Mirajane's hair flowing beautifully and the mayor of Aster's cloak moving softly behind the king.

Levy again sneaked her hand into that of the black steel knight and he squeezed it tightly, edging just a little closer to her again. The blue haired scholar and mage of The Crown, chair of the king's table, she smiled brightly, leaning against his strong side. Years ago, she thought her life was over, left to starve in a small room, but now everything was not just aright but just perfect.

“Long live the king!”, she chimed in.

  



End file.
